The Blacksmith and the Prince
by rubberglue
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a young prince and a young blacksmith. And one day, they cross paths but nothing ever goes smoothly in a fairy tale.
1. Chapter 1

_"I want to hear that story again mother," The young mother smiled as she eased her heavily pregnant body onto the bed, next to her young son._

_"Again? Then you'll go to bed?"_

_"Yes. I promise."_

_She reached out and pulled her son to her, ruffling his hair before pressing a kiss on the top of his head. As he snuggled into her embrace, she started her story, a story she had told many times._

_"Once upon a time, there was a young prince. Like all young men who had everything he ever wanted, he was confident, arrogant and selfish. But all that would change one day."_

* * *

Arthur stretched and yawned as he slowly woke up. Glancing around his room, he noted that everything looked the same as they did yesterday which meant nothing had changed in his life. He sighed.

Footsteps echoed outside and Arthur started his countdown.

_5 … 4 … 3 … 2 …_

Sure enough, Rob stepped into the room just as he mentally said "one".

"Sire, I have brought your breakfast." Rob dipped into a bow, carefully holding the platter of food in his right hand so that it didn't spill.

"Isn't there some other way you can do this?" Arthur dragged himself from his bed and threw himself quite ungraciously into his chair.

Placing the platter gently onto the table, then draping the napkin across Arthur's lap, Rob replied the same way he always did. "I would be glad to do it in any manner you prefer Sire."

Huffing, Arthur poked at the bread and meat on his platter. "Well, I don't know. Everyday is the same isn't it? Don't you ever get bored?"

"No, my lord. I feel extremely fortunate to be working for -"

Arthur waved his hand to shut Rob up. As much as he enjoyed praise, hearing the same words every morning was getting on his nerves.

"What's on the schedule for today - no, let me guess, training with the knights, knights try outs, council meeting. Any feasts today? Any monsters needing slaying?" At least the meat was good - that was something he didn't really mind staying the same.

"No, Sire. Just dinner with your father."

Great. Dinner alone with his father. That should be a barrel of fun. Yesterday's dinner was so fun he had to stop himself from stabbing himself with a fork, especially when his father went into yet another life lesson he wanted his son to learn. Arthur once tried to point out that he might learn more about life if he was allowed to actually have a life but his father simply talked over him. The worst was how all the "life lessons" were essentially variations of the message "be more like me".

He watched as Rob took out his clothes for the day. It was the second day of the week so that meant his red linen shirt.

"Your red shirt Sire?" Rob held it out.

"I think the blue today."

Rob frowned and didn't move. "But Sire, today is the second day of -"

Arthur sighed. "Right, right. The red shirt it is then."

* * *

By the time evening rolled around, Arthur was bored stiff. It didn't help that his sister Morgana was off visiting some kingdom in the North. At least when she was around, there was somebody to talk to, even if all she did was make fun of him.

Training in the morning wasn't too bad. A couple new recruits had joined and it was pretty fun to put them in their places. But after that was lunch with the council (terrible and tedious), then his father insisted that he go through some petitions from the various Lords and sort them out (boring)and when that was done, Arthur was scheduled to visit the middle and lower town to check on his people (slightly more interesting but still tedious).

The lower town was a bustle of activity as usual. As the sun set, merchants dragged their wares home, workers chatted as they walked along the streets, waving to others and children played at being knights on the streets. All of them stopped to bow to their crown prince. Briefly, Arthur wondered at what it would be like to live like them - to not have his life dictated by his title, to have the freedom to do whatever he wanted. He could be a farmer or a mercenary. Or maybe even a blacksmith, he thought as a young lady, curls covering her face, caught his eye. She was dressed like many young village ladies, in a yellow cotton shift, but there she stood, legs apart, hammering resolutely away at the piece of metal she had on the anvil. There was grace in her strength and Arthur stopped to watch her. How had he never noticed her before?

Right on cue, Sir George spoke up. "Sire, the sun has almost set. It is time to return to the castle."

"We can stay out a while more." For some reason, he wanted to continue watching the blacksmith.

"Your father will not be pleased. He expects you back for dinner and council."

Sighing, Arthur tore his eyes from the lady and turned back to the castle."Alright. Let's go."

* * *

In a strange twist of events, Arthur acquired a new manservant. One he didn't like very much actually, but like everything in his life, he didn't have a choice. Apparently, saving the life of the crown prince was worth a promotion to being his manservant. It was one thing to reward the person who saved his life, but Arthur wondered why he had to be punished at the same time.

"You're not very good at this whole manservant thing, are you?" Arthur watched with a mix of exasperation and mild amusement at Merlin (what sort of name was that) struggled with preparing the morning meal. The bread rolled off the platter onto the floor, Merlin almost sliced off his finger as he cut the meat and when everything was finally done, his breakfast platter looked like someone had massacred a pheasant.

"Sorry. Don't usually have meat for any meals."

"Sire."

Merlin rolled his eyes but dutifully tacked on the honorific, "Sire."

"You do realise I could send you to the stocks for such impertinence." Arthur waved his fork in the air to emphasise his point.

"You could." Merlin replied absently. "Er, sire. So it's the fifth day of the week. You're supposed to wear the brown linen shirt." Merlin rummaged roughly through Arthur's wardrobe.

"I want to wear the white one."

"Ok. Whatever you want, sire. Here you go!" With a flourish, Merlin whipped out the white shirt from the wardrobe and waved it slightly in triumph. "I've prepared your bath, laid out breakfast and taken out your clothes. What else is there?"

Arthur frowned, his mouth full of food. This was precisely why Merlin was an awful servant. Rob knew exactly what needed doing. Merlin kept waiting for prompts. Sometimes (a lot of times actually), Arthur would forget that Rob even existed. He doubted that was possible with Merlin.

"Stables, armor and training."

"Ah right my lord. So." Merlin continued to stand in front of him, the foolish grin still on his face.

"So? Do them?"

"I would if I knew what to do." A pause before Merlin hastily added, "Sire."


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin was the only manservant Arthur ever had who walked beside him. Despite several reminders that he should, as a manservant, walk a few steps behind, Merlin somehow always ended up by his side. Merlin also apparently seemed to think they were friends.

"It's been a week and your schedule is always the same. Don't you find it boring?" Yet again, as they walked through the streets of the lower town, Merlin chattered away. By now, Arthur knew Merlin's opinion of the various types of bread sold by the baker in the middle town, what Merlin thought was lacking in the tavern and why hunting was terribly unnecessary and cruel. No amount of feigned disinterest or "shut up Merlin" kept him from talking for long. Not when he had an opinion to share.

It was oddly nice.

"It is my duty as prince."

"That is true. We all have our roads in life, don't we? Paths that lead us to our destiny, as much as we might be reluctant to walk them. There's always something bigger. A destiny."

"What on earth are you going on about now?" Arthur snapped. "The only destiny you have is to do what I tell you to."

Merlin shook his head and looked at Arthur as if he had forgotten Arthur was there. "Yes. Of course, my lord."

"You are a strange one, Merlin."

They were near the end of the lower town, where the smithy was. Arthur looked around, hoping to catch sight of the blacksmith again but she was nowhere to be found. He hadn't much luck since that day some weeks ago despite his best efforts and that was oddly disappointing. He wasn't very keen on all these odd feelings he was having nowadays.

"Are you looking for someone?" Merlin looked curiously at him and then the smithy.

"No."

"But you obviously are. We've been standing here -"

"Shut up, Merlin."

* * *

Arthur swore he could see the hint of a smile on Merlin's face as he refilled Arthur's cup. Of course he would find it funny that his father was once again nagging at him.

"As prince of Camelot, it's your duty to read every petition."

Arthur stabbed at the piece of meat on his plate.

"You should also have been more solicitous of Lord Bryson's son at training."

His fork fell on the table with a clatter. "There was no reason for him to join us on the training field."

"There was no reason for you to beat him up like that. Lord Bryson is a treasured ally!"

"That liar claimed he was Albion's greatest knight!" said Arthur with a huff.

Uther waved his hand and Arthur rolled his eyes. "You will conduct open court tomorrow."

"What? Why?" Arthur hated open court. It was just various people coming up to complain incessantly about everything and anything. His father kept Camelot peaceful, so he wasn't sure what they had to complain about. Yet they always found something to whine about.

"It will do you good to listen to our people. You really need to take your position more seriously."

"Fine. Whatever," muttered Arthur as he picked up his fork and pushed the remaining food around.

"I also want you to check on the grain stocks - I don't trust Sir Michael's numbers. And finish up all the petitions by this evening. I want to see them. Remember that when making decisions -"

As Uther rambled on, Arthur's mind drifted to the blacksmith. He wasn't quite sure what it was about her that intrigued him so. Maybe it was the rarity of female blacksmiths in Camelot. Maybe it was the grace in which she wielded her hammer. Perhaps when he had a chance to meet her, he'd change his mind, but that would mean actually meeting her. Somehow.

"Lord Trent will be visiting next week so I need you to plan some activities to entertain his son. And no beating him up on the training ground."

"Yes, father." Arthur sighed. He hated being prince. Beside him, Arthur was pretty sure Merlin was laughing inside.

* * *

Arthur couldn't believe he agreed to this. Here he was, the crown prince of Camelot, skulking around in the forest, waiting for his most irresponsible manservant. Somehow, Merlin had persuaded him that a trip to the forest would be fun and freeing. Frankly he couldn't see how, especially when Merlin was missing. He had to admit that he was getting used to this strange manservant of his, so much so that when Merlin went missing for a day, he almost missed him.

Almost.

He didn't really miss his manservant because that would mean he was fond of Merlin. And he wasn't fond of Merlin because Merlin was the kind of useless servant who would leave him stranded in the forest after promising him a day of freedom.

"Come any closer and I will hurt you."

Startled out of this thoughts, Arthur stared at the person in front of him. She barely came up to his chin, was armed with only a small knife and yet she was threatening him. Him, the prince of Camelot. It was almost laughable.

"Are you mad? Why are you threatening me?"

She raised the knife higher and said, "Don't think I didn't notice you following me."

"I wasn't following you!"

"And why should I believe you? Who wears a cloak and wanders around the forest aimlessly? And I've been watching you for a while already." Only the slight tremble in her arm suggested she wasn't as confident as she looked.

He raised his arms, hoping the gesture would calm her. "This is just a misunderstanding. You see, I was just waiting for my ser … my friend. He's late." Now that he was looking at her closely, he realised who she was. She was the blacksmith - the dress and her curls gave her away. His heart jumped and his throat dried. Up close, she was even prettier than he remembered but what struck him most was the strength in her eyes. A strange man in the forest might be scary but she stood her ground.

"I'm erm, Rob. Uh, I am supposed to be picking herbs with Merlin but he's not here yet and I was just waiting for him. I mean you no harm."

She watched him suspiciously for a while then lowered the knife. "Alright. I believe you. One can never be too careful in the forest."

"Why are you in the forest? Isn't it dangerous?"

"Escaping from the madness at home." A sad smile crossed her face and Arthur's heart hurt for her.

"Madness?"

"You know, ill parents, evil stepmothers, selfish stepsisters. I think someone wrote a story about it." Her tone was flippant but he could see the pain in her eyes. But before he could say anything, anything that could take the pain away from her, Merlin decided to make his appearance.

"Sire! Sire!" Panting, Merlin scampered towards them. "Sorry I'm late."

The blacksmith stared at him, then turned to Merlin. "Sire?"

"Yeah, he insists that I call him sire. Or my lord. Protocol." Merlin replied flippantly. "I'm Merlin by the way."

Reaching out her hand, she pushed the hood off his face. "You're Prince Arthur." Her voice cooled and she dropped into a curtsy. "I apologise for my actions before. Please forgive me."

"Oh! What did you do?"

"Shut up, Merlin! You do not have to apologise. It was merely a misunderstanding."

"Thank you, my lord. If you do not mind, I shall take my leave now." Without waiting for his answer, she turned and left.

"Huh."

"Merlin -"

"Shut up?"

* * *

She was late home and her step-sister Rosalind had been furious. It took a lot of effort for Gwen to stand there quietly and allow Rosalind to berate her but if she didn't, Rosalind would complain to her father and she couldn't have that.

"I want the forge cleaned out, the house is in a mess as well so once you're done with the forge, you should clean up the house. Also, mother wants father to have fresh bread for dinner tonight." Gwen bit her lip when Rosalind said the word "father". Rosalind had never cared for Gwen's father, using him only to get Gwen to do things. Gritting her teeth, Gwen nodded. Only a thin wall separated Gwen and Rosalind from her father and Gwen didn't want him to hear them quarrel.

"I'll get right to it."

"Oh, and with the tournament in a week's time, there's a bunch of orders for sharpening and new swords. We should make quite a tidy sum this week." Carelessly, Rosalind tossed the list of orders at Gwen before walking off.

Guinevere didn't bother to answer. Once Rosalind left, she darted over to the next room where her father was.

The man lying on the bed was frail and small, so different from the man who brought her up, the man who could easily life her with one arm once upon a time, the man with the loud booming laugh everyone in Camelot could recognise. Today, it was a miracle if he could manage a chuckle.

Kneeling by her ailing father's bedside, she asked, "How are you today?"

"Gwen, my darling daughter. Has Rosalind been bullying you again?" Her father lifted a trembling hand to cup her face. "I am so sorry."

"Oh dad. It's nothing. She's accustomed to a certain lifestyle. It's nothing I can't handle." She forced a smile on her face, hoping to drive away the worry in her father's eyes.

"I love you Guinevere. If only Elyan -"

Quickly, she hushed her father, slipping her hand in his. "No. Don't. Elyan's leaving isn't your fault and Florence made you happy."

"But -"

"Dad. I just want you not to worry, rest and get better. For me?"

His grip on her hand was weak but she felt it tighten slightly. Holding back her tears, she rested her head on the bed as her father stroked her hair.


	3. Chapter 3

Sweat rolled down her temple as she heated the metal. With the Royal Tournament upon them, the demand for swords had increased and loath as she was to admit it, Rosalind was right. There would be extra money this month and hopefully, it would be enough to get the royal physician down to see her father.

"Hello!"

Gwen turned and saw a skinny man standing at the entrance of the smithy, grinning and waving at her. Placing the metal carefully down, she walked over to him.

"I'm sorry but we're not taking any more orders." There was something familiar about him and she stared at him. "Oh! You're the prince's servant!"

"I am. I'm Merlin."

"Well, with the tournament, we're swamped with orders and we just can't handle anymore."

"That's a pity. The prince was hoping to commission a sword."

"What about the royal smith?"

"Uh - well. He's busy?"

Gwen frowned. Nothing was making sense. "But surely the prince's orders would take precedence?"

"Umm, right." Merlin looked around her smithy, before finally looking back at her. "He's heard of the quality of your work and wishes to have a piece crafted by you."

"I see." Gwen didn't believe a word. She had only recently taken over the forge from her father since his illness. How would the prince hear anything?

Merlin shrugged. "He's not used to being turned down."

"He may not be used to being turned down but I'm not used to being bossed around." Gwen snapped.

At her words, Merlin's eyes widened, then a smile broke across his face. "I like you," he laughed. "Still, he is prince and he really, really wants a sword made by you."

"If I make a sword for him, what will he pay?" Her mind suddenly whirled with possibilities.

"What is your price?"

She swallowed, willing herself not to hope too much. "A physician. For my father."

"Is he sick?" Concern tinged Merlin's voice and he touched her gently on the arm.

"Very. Old Martha's herbs have done nothing to help. I'm afraid he doesn't have much time left and he is in a lot of pain. If the prince will send his physician, I will make the sword he wants." Tears pricked her eyes and she took a deep breath, willing herself not to cry, not in front of someone she barely knew.

"It's a deal. I'll get Gaius to come down immediately." And before she could thank him, Merlin rushed off. For the first time in weeks, Gwen let herself hope.

True to his word, Merlin brought Gaius, the royal physician, to her house the very next morning. Tension filled the tiny room as she stood with Merlin while Gaius examined her father. Merlin grabbed her hand and whispered that everything would be alright. It had been a while since she had anyone to lean on and she held his hand gratefully.

"Guinevere, I am very sorry but your father is seriously ill and I don't think there is anything we can do. I can give him some herbs to ease the pain. I'm sorry."

Gwen stared at the physician in shock.

"What do you mean?" Unconsciously, she tightened her hold on Merlin's hand.

With a tilt of his head, Gaius gestured for her to follow him. Letting go of Merlin's hand, she left the room, walking past Florence and Rosalind, both of whom were seated in the small kitchen next door. They looked questioningly at her and she shrugged.

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked urgently the moment they stepped over the threshold of her house. "Is he going to -" Sudden tears threatened to overwhelm her and she stopped, sucking in a breath.

"From the way it looks, your father doesn't have long left. But I've seen people survive for years."

Gwen blinked, trying to stem her tears. She didn't know which was worse, losing her father or having her father suffer in this manner for years. "The herbs, they will ease his suffering?"

"Hopefully. It's been effective before. But again, I cannot promise anything. It's really all we can do. I can come down again in a few weeks to see how your father is doing. And send Merlin to get me if he seems to get worse."

Gwen nodded.

Gaius placed one hand on her shoulder. "You're a good daughter. You've done whatever you can."

She nodded again, her throat too clogged with tears to say anything. With a nod, Gaius picked up his bag and left.

"Gwen." Dashing the tears from her face, she turned to where Merlin stood in the doorway.

"Thank you for what you did. I'll make sure that the prince's sword is ready soon."

"I'm sorry."

"I'll be fine. If you don't mind, I need to tell Florence and Rosalind, and -" Suddenly, she was in Merlin's arms and with a shudder, she found herself crying into his shoulder.

Some time later, after Merlin had helped her dry her tears and waved goodbye to her, she finally returned to her father's room. Florence sat next to him, one hand in his while Rosalind stood, almost sulkily, in the corner.

Florence looked up at Gwen. "What did the physician say?"

"She's been crying. What do you think he said, Mum?" said Rosalind.

Her father turned his head slowly to look at her. "Come here, Gwen. It's alright, darling."

"I'm sorry," Gwen muttered as she moved towards the other side of the bed. The tears she thought she'd finished shedding returned. "He said there's nothing to be done."

"It's alright," said her father again. "I've had a good life."

Despite the news, life went on as usual. Gwen worked on the long list of orders steadily. Work kept her from thinking about life without her father and she drowned herself in it. Even Rosalind seemed aware of her mood and kept away from her, for which Gwen was very thankful.

"Hey."

Looking up from the forge, Gwen saw Merlin standing in front of her. She smiled. "Hey."

"How are you? I brought you something from the castle kitchens." He handed her a heavy package. "It's meat," he grinned.

Gwen gasped. "Did you steal it?"

"Of course not. I told Arthur - the prince - I was bringing it for you and he gave me permission."

"Oh." That wasn't something she expected from the prince everyone said was selfish and uncaring.

"Anyway," Merlin shifted on his feet, suddenly looking nervous, "I didn't come just to pass you this. I was hoping that you would give me some time alone with your father."

"Why?"

"I am going to need you to trust me. Please."

Gwen took a deep breath. "Sure. He's in his room. It's not been a good day today," she said warningly but Merlin had already disappeared into the house.

The minutes passed slowly and Gwen wondered what Merlin was doing inside with her father. Merlin had a very open face but that wasn't actually a good reason for allowing someone she barely knew to do this. As time passed, and when she thought she saw a flash of light, Gwen became increasingly panicky. Just as she was about to barge into the room, Merlin opened the door, a slight smile on his face.

"I think your father will be fine."

Gwen peered over Merlin's shoulder at her father, then back at Merlin.

"What did you do?" She didn't understand what was happening and didn't want to get her hopes up.

"Umm, it's probably best you don't know. I should go. Go see your father." Merlin nodded towards her father. "Let me know when the sword is ready."

Gwen rushed to her father's bedside. His eyes were open and instead of being glazed in pain like they usually were, there were clear and alert. "Guinevere. Who was that young man? What did he do? The pain in my heart, it's gone. And I can breathe easily."

Grasping her father's hands tightly, Gwen smiled through tears. "I have no idea what he did but I'm glad he did it."


	4. Chapter 4

"To be quite honest, my lord. This plan of yours isn't particularly good."

Arthur continued to read the petition in front of him. Maybe if he ignored Merlin, Merlin would go away.

"I mean, you commission a sword from her but I don't quite see how that allows you to meet her, much less get to know her. You've never actually done anything like this before have you?" Merlin continued talking. "I guess as prince, most girls simply fell into your lap."

Finally Arthur raised his head so he could scowl at Merlin. Did Merlin think he was that thick he didn't realise his plan was somewhat lacking? That he didn't actually think it through properly? "I'm the prince of Camelot. I do not have to answer to the likes of you!" Arthur declared in what he thought was his most princely tone.

Merlin burst into laughter, laughing so hard he doubled over. By now, Arthur was used to Merlin's oddness so he just sighed deeply before returning to his work. As he looked over the petition in his hand, he sighed again. Lord Merek wanted a new well. Lady Anne asked for more knights as a result of an increase in bandit activity around her lands. This was such tedious work, trying to keep the nobles happy. Then there was open court during which he had to try and keep the locals happy as well. Why is it no one cared if he was happy?

"How's her father?" Arthur asked gruffly when it seemed that Merlin had finally regained control of himself.

"He will recover," said Merlin.

Arthur shot him a suspicious look, putting the petition down. "Gaius told me -"

"He was mistaken."

"Huh. Gaius isn't usually mistaken."

Merlin scoffed. "It is probably his old age."

Arthur stared at Merlin. Something wasn't quite right but he couldn't put his finger on it. He sighed once more. Ever since Merlin entered his life, reality seemed to have tilted slightly and a lot of things just no longer made sense. But he was getting used to it. "I'm glad Gaius was wrong then."

"You might find today's schedule interesting." Merlin quickly changed the subject. "After lunch with your father and the council and your training with the knights, your father wants you to pay a visit to the town and see if there are any major repairs that need to be made since the storm yesterday."

"Huh."

"Oh I can already hear the excitement in your voice."

"Go feed the hunting dogs Merlin."

"Shall I pick up some flowers for you?"

Arthur grabbed a cushion and tossed it at his grinning manservant.

* * *

The council spent most of lunch debating an increase in taxes. Only half listening, Arthur picked at his food and wondered if he would see the blacksmith during his walk later.

"An increase in taxes will only overburden our people!"

"The people cannot expect us to keep looking after them without recompense. Who pays for the knights' upkeep? Who pays for the torches we keep burning past nightfall?"

If she was at the smithy, perhaps he would speak to her, ask her about his sword. And she'd talk to him, her hair fluttering in the wind as her eyes danced with happiness now that her father was recovering. He smiled at the thought. See, he wasn't as hopeless as Merlin made him out to be.

"I take it you agree with the tax increase Arthur?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." Arthur nodded, his mind still on the fantasy he'd conjured up in his head.

"It's settled then. I'll send the guards to inform the people immediately," said King Uther. "In more exciting news, I've been speaking to King Godwyn and we've decided that an alliance will be to both our benefit."

Maybe his plan wasn't as foolish as Merlin made it out to be. He wasn't quite sure why he found her so fascinating. It might be the way she wielded that hammer the first time he saw her. Or it might be the way she confronted him in the forest. Whatever it was, she couldn't stop thinking about her.

" - and so I have arranged for you two to marry."

"Marry!" Dragged from his thoughts, Arthur spluttered. "Who?"

"Princess Elena of course. King Godwyn's daughter. Haven't you been listening to a word I said?"

"I've never even met her."

Uther waved his hand dismissively. "That is not important. She will be here for the tournament ball. You will meet her then."

"And what if I don't like her?"

"Then you learn to like her. Now, shall we discuss the new farming regulations?" Arthur glared balefully at his father.

* * *

His arranged marriage weighed heavily on his mind as he and Merlin trudged through the muddy path in the middle of town. The trip to town that had he'd been looking forward to suddenly wasn't so appealing anymore.

"You're deep in thought. Thinking of Gwen?"

"Who?"

"The blacksmith. Don't you know her name?"

He stopped walking. "Merlin, do you think that there is only one perfect mate in the world?"

"Yup. And maybe yours is Gwen." Merlin teased, grinning.

"Well then how you can be certain to find them? And if you do find them, are they really the one for you or do you only think they are? And what happens if the person you're supposed to be with never appears, or, or she does, but you're too distracted to notice?"

"What brought this on?"

"My father has arranged for me to marry some princess."

That stopped Merlin from smiling. "Oh. Well then."

"What if she isn't my perfect mate? What if my perfect mate is somewhere out there and I marry this princess instead?"

"Then perhaps you need to fight for your perfect mate. You can't expect fate to simply deliver her to your lap."

"You have a point." Arthur stared at Merlin. "That may be the smartest thing I've heard you say."

"That's because you don't listen too well. We should continue on, my lord."

Arthur nodded absently as Merlin's words swam in his head. A commotion somewhere further down interrupted his thoughts and they hurried over. Two guards and an old man were standing in the middle of the circle of people squabbling. The old man had apparently been arrested and his wife was crying and holding on to the arm of one of the guards who was trying to fling her off.

"What is the problem here?" Arthur pushed his way through.

"This man cursed the King, my lord. We are bringing him to face punishment."

"What did he say?"

"He said the King was selfish and uncaring and he hoped the King would die an early death."

To his side, Arthur was aware of the man's wife crying and begging for leniency. While he felt slightly bad, it was law that any insult to the King be punished. Shaking his head, he told the guards to take him back to the castle.

"Wait! Why don't you ask him why he said that." That voice. Turning his head, Arthur saw the blacksmith standing defiantly in front of his guards. "Please, my lord. Ask him why he said that."

Arthur hesitated for a moment. How would he look, yielding to a blacksmith's wishes? His father would never allow himself to look so weak in front of his people. But everybody's eyes were on him, and for some reason, he knew refusing to ask would disappoint the blacksmith and he didn't want to disappoint her. Clearing his throat, he asked as authoritatively as he could, "Why did you say that?"

For a moment, the old man said nothing.

Impatient and hating that he allowed the blacksmith to influence him, Arthur snapped. "Fine. You had your chance. Take him -"

"Sire. I was angry because of the raising of taxes. My store takes in little enough. We can barely feed ourselves. If you raise our taxes again, we'll starve."

"Your taxes pay for the protection provided by the knights, the upkeep of the common areas and -"

The blacksmith spoke up again. "We know what our taxes pay for. You just raised taxes a month ago. Is it really necessary?"

It was a question he had never asked before. When the council said to raise taxes, he always assumed that there was a good reason behind it.

She was still talking. "You put us in a difficult position and then punish us when we vent our anger. He is an old man. Do you really think he is a real threat to the King? It is bad enough that you are raising our taxes. Must you do this to him as well?"

"She's right," Merlin whispered.

Arthur looked around. People were alternating between staring at him and at the blacksmith. Silence reigned and all he could hear was his heartbeat. Everyone was waiting for him to make a decision. The old man's wife was still sobbing quietly, he stood slumped held by the guards and the blacksmith stared angrily at him. He gulped.

"Release him. I'll take responsibility for this."

Immediately, the guards let go of the man who went straight to his wife. Slowly the crowd dispersed, leaving him, Merlin and the blacksmith.

"Ahem, I think I'm just going to stand over there. Just by that house." And then it was just him and the blacksmith.

"I didn't get your name that day." The moment the words left his mouth, he groaned inwardly. He knew her name. What kind of foolish statement was that?

"It's Guinevere, although most people call me Gwen."

"Guinevere," he repeated her name, liking the way it rolled off his tongue. "I'm Arthur."

"I am aware of that, my lord. Thank you for releasing Joseph. I would thank you more if you could do something about the raise in taxes."

"The money is needed."

"Is there no other way? Do you not know how much this hurts us? Do you not talk to your people?"

"I've no reason to. We know -" And that was exactly the wrong thing to say because Gwen angrily interrupted him.

"Seeing that a good King should be a servant to his people, you might want to rethink that position, my lord." Then as if realising who she was speaking to, Gwen quickly took a step back, mumbling an apology. "I have to go now. Your sword will be ready soon. I will let Merlin now." She curtsied. "My lord."

"But -" He watched as she walked away from him, disappointment weighing in his chest.

* * *

AN: Again, I really enjoy reading your comments so thank you! Also, this fic was inspired by that movie Ever After so if you've watched it, you might recognise some bits from it. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Gwen thought it was lucky she wasn't currently sitting in the dungeons of the castle after her little outburst at the prince although that might have been preferable to the lecture she was currently receiving from Florence.

"Why did you not introduce your sister to the prince? She is prettier, has so much more grace than you and is more suited to be his companion than you. Look at you. You're filthy from working at the forge, you speak rudely to the prince and you have no idea how to dress like a lady."

"Why would the prince even consider a commoner as a wife? He doesn't even bother to talk to us." Sometimes her stepmother's and stepsister's fantasies were completely ungrounded in reality.

"I said companion. I didn't say wife."

Gwen shook her head and sighed.

"All that time you spent defending that silly, old man, you could have spent in the forge finishing up the orders for the tournament. Don't forget that Rosalind needs a new dress as well."

"I won't. I'm going to see Dad and then I will start work."

"Don't spend too much time with him. I don't like it when you use him to avoid your duties."

Childishly, when Florence turned her back, she stuck out her tongue.

After checking on her father who was doing much better, but still too weak to leave his bed for long, Gwen headed for the forge. Humming to herself, she worked on sharpening a few swords and hammering out some horse shoes. It late in the evening when she finally continued work on the prince's sword. Her tools were no where as good as those from the castle smithy but she was determined that the sword she made for the prince would not pale in comparison to those made by the royal smith.

By the time she crawled into her bedroll on the kitchen floor, it was early the next morning.

* * *

"Every time I come by, you're working," said Merlin as he stopped in front of her. In his hand, he held more gifts from the castle.

"All these have to be done before the Royal Tournament." Gratefully, she took the bread from Merlin. Fresh bread was expensive and even if they were leftovers from the castle, Gwen accepted them happily. "Do they really just throw all these leftovers away after feasts?"

Merlin nodded. "They are a wasteful lot. Do you want help?"

"Aren't you tired from serving the prince?" The bread now safely tucked into her cupboard, Gwen returned to her forge.

"Nope." Merlin smirked. "Arthur is really more talk than action."

Gwen made a face. "I can't believe that he lets you get away with not doing everything.I've seen maids from the castle punished simply because they made the bed wrong."

"Arthur isn't like his father. He wants to be, god knows why, but his heart is far too soft."

That made Gwen laugh. "Really? You were there when he was about to haul that old man in simply for speaking his mind. And I wouldn't be surprised if he said nothing about the impending tax raise."

Merlin shrugged, then settled on a box in her smithy. "I think you're a good influence on him."

Narrowing her eyes on him, Gwen shook her head then continued with the sword she was making. "All royals are the same."

Merlin ignored her statement and regaled her with stories of the castles instead, a world so unlike her own it was like a fairy tale.

* * *

" -and so, I hope you can see Arthur, just how important it is to have a tight grip on your people, the way I do now. Give them too much freedom and they will demand even more."

"Yes father." He pushed his food around on the plate, his mind filled with Guinevere. Since the moment she left, he couldn't stop thinking about her and now, seated at dinner with his father and some of the other lords, he thought of what she said about the taxes. "Father, why are we raising taxes again so soon after the last raise? I heard that the raised taxes are quite the burden on the people."

The chatter at the table paused and he felt like all eyes were on him. "I thought you agreed with the decision?"

"I did but I was in the lower town yesterday and I realised that the people will suffer with yet another increase. The storms already mean less business for many of the merchants."

"It is precisely because of these storms that we need to raise taxes. There are repairs that need to be done."

"Then we are just punishing the people twice and it's not like our reserves are running out. I had Merlin bring me the records this morning."

Uther studied him suspiciously and for a brief moment, Arthur regretted bringing any of this up. "You are not here to please your subjects."

"Neither are we here to make life difficult for them."

"Well, then. What do you suggest?"

Arthur looked around the table, at the council and his father, all of whom were looking at him doubtfully. "I suggest we don't raise the taxes. Not now. We still have reserves which we can tap on. Let the people recover from the storms and then we can decide if we need to replenish the reserves with more taxes."

When no one said anything, Arthur felt his heart sink. Perhaps he should have spoken to his father alone, instead of defying him in front of the council.

Uther finally cleared his throat. "Alright then. You make a fair point. We will suspend the raising of taxes for now. When the reserves dips to below half of what it has now, we will reinstate it. Now, enough talk of kingdom matters."

Something almost like pride swelled in Arthur. His mind went back to the old man he'd met in the lower town and suddenly Arthur felt like a leader for his people. Then he thought of Guinevere and wondered if she would hear of what he did.


	6. Chapter 6

The castle was bigger than she remembered and she stared at it from the courtyard. Her fingers curled around the sword and she took a deep breath before climbing the stairs to the main entrance. As she made her way towards the large, lavish doors, her heart started to pound loudly.

"Who goes there?" The guard standing at the entrance looked her up and down, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"I have a delivery for Merlin." Gwen tilted her chin up and looked the guard in the eye.

The guard stared warily at her for a while before informing her curtly to wait. As he disappeared past the huge doors, she continued her examination of the castle. Intricate carving decorated the doors and would have taken great skill and a lot of time to do. She wondered what it was like to live a life of such pleasure, such privilege - to not have to worry about food or money or safety. Perhaps that was why Florence and Rosalind were so keen to catch the eye of a noble.

"Gwen! Why are you here?" Merlin clattered down the stairs, smiling happily at her. She grinned back at him. After spending so much time with Merlin, she had come to regard him as a close friend and his smile always made her happy and she liked to think that he enjoyed her company as well. "It's nice to be around normal people," he had said before. Once or twice, she asked him about how he healed her father but she soon learned that it was a surefire way to get Merlin to close down on her.

"I've finished the prince's sword." Her pride could be heard in her words. She'd spent a great deal of time and effort on his sword and the product was something she thought was one of her better work.

"Oh! That's great. Hey, why don't you pass it to him yourself. He's reading some policy documents. I'm sure he'll welcome the distraction."

"Oh I couldn't. I'm sure he is very busy with important stuff." Instinctively, she backed away. Her heart had sped up and she just knew that seeing the prince again would be a bad idea.

Merlin took her hand. "Come on. I'm sure he'll like to thank you in person."

"Well," she relented, "I've always wanted to see the inside of the castle."

If she thought the exterior of the castle was lavish, the interiors were even more luxurious. Gently, she ran her hand along the cold marble columns, admired the gorgeous tapestry that hung along the walls and fresh flowers in beautiful porcelain vases that peppered the corridors.

"You get used to all these quite easily," laughed Merlin as she stopped to examine a marble bust.

"Oh, I don't think I could ever get used to such opulence."

They reached a set of doors and Merlin paused. "Here we are. I'll announce you."

"You'll come in with me?" Her nerves started to build. She could barely control her mouth on a normal day. What if she insulted the prince?

"Oh no. I should be cleaning out the stables." Merlin winked at her. "You'll be fine. Promise. Trust me?"

Gwen nodded and took a deep breath as the doors opened.

* * *

"What is it you want now. Oh hi." The prince jumped up from his desk, a flush colouring his cheeks, stumbled then yelped in pain as his leg whacked against the table. That he seemed as nervous as she felt calmed her down slightly.

"My lord." As custom demanded, she curtsied, then held out his sword with both hands. "I've brought your sword. I hope that it doesn't disappoint."

His fingers brushed against hers as he took the sword and she shivered at his touch. "I'm sure it wouldn't." It might have been his imagination but his voice was low and husky and for a while their gazes locked. She swallowed and looked away, and the prince turned his head as well.

The prince swung the sword a little to test the balance, then he examined the blade. Gwen stood awkwardly and watched. Having grown up in the smithy, Gwen had seen many swordsmen - fledgling knights, tournament competitors and mercenaries. Many of them would show off their moves in the the small yard they had, especially after Rosalind arrived. None of them had the grace or the fluidity of the prince.

"Brilliant. This is brilliant." Pride swelled in her. She knew he wasn't saying that to please her because he was staring in amazement at the sword, his long fingers drifting gently across the blade. Gwen had the sudden, and most inappropriate thought, of those fingers against her skin. Dragging his eyes from the sword, he looked at her, smiling, "You're brilliant. Maybe I should sack my royal smith and hire you instead."

For some reason, that seemed to break the tension in the room. "I am sure your blacksmith is much more skillful." She replied modestly. "I've heard much of the workmanship of the royal smithy. It's almost legendary."

"Legendary?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. We hear of it but never see it in person."

"Well then. Let me remedy that." He stretched out his arm, palms open. She hesitated then against her better judgement, she placed her hand in his, feeling a flush build in her and wondering if he could hear her beating heart.

In silence, she followed as the prince led her to what she assumed was the armoury. "Every sword ever made by the royal smith is here. Take a look."

Dropping the prince's hand, she looked around the room, awestruck by the sheer amount of weapons housed in it. Swords gleamed at her, tempting her to touch them, to examine the workmanship. A question in her eyes, she looked at the prince who was watching her, a smile on his face.

"You look like you are about to cry. Pick one."

"I could no sooner choose a favourite star in heaven." The words came out on a sigh, filled with a sense of wonder.

The prince moved towards her and gently lifted her chin so that their eyes met. "What is it about swords that moves you so?"

"I suppose it is because when I was young, I would follow my father into the smithy and he would let me help him forge swords and horseshoes. He put a small bed in the corner of the smithy so that when I was tired, I could sleep there and be near him. I would fall asleep to the sounds of his hammering and the smell of hot metal. He was so proud of every sword he made. He loved every one of them and I loved them too. Even now, although he is ill, I can still feel him with me as I work."

For a moment, neither of them moved. The prince gazed at her and she found herself unable to look away. He was the first to move, dragging his thumb lightly over her cheek.

"You are extraordinary. I don't believe I've met anyone like you."

"I've never properly met a prince either."

"No. I would think not." Somehow, the gap between them had closed and she could feel his breath against her face.

Time slowed and although her brain shouted at her to move away, Gwen simply stared at the prince as he lowered his lips to hers. Her eyes closed. Maybe it was because she was in an unfamiliar place. Or maybe it was because he was the crown prince of Camelot. It was a kiss like no other, sweet, pleading, hungry.

She broke the kiss, pulling away, not without regret. But he was Prince Arthur. And she was a simple blacksmith. She shouldn't be kissing him.

"I need to go. There is a lot of work that has to be done." Turning away, she walked as calmly as she could to the door.

"Guinevere." His voice was taut with tension.

"This was a mistake, my lord." Pushing open the door, she slipped into the corridor.

He followed her. "Can I see you again?"

She continued to walk, willing herself not to turn around.

"Please? I'll be at the forest, where we first met, tomorrow morning."

It was the plea in his voice, she would tell herself later. She turned and looked at him, standing there looking every inch the royal prince he was. Her heart thudded. "Maybe."

"Wonderful. I'll be there." The smile he flashed her made her stomach flip and she turned away. As she scurried down the corridor to the main doors of the castle, she wondered what on earth she was doing.

* * *

Dark clouds gathered in the sky but even that could not dampen his mood. After making some excuse for not being around for training, he and Merlin had slipped off into the forest.

"This is all so romantic - clandestine meetings in the forest -"

"Shut up Merlin. We don't want to attract attention."

It felt like a very long wait but finally, they heard footsteps and then Guinevere turned up. She was every bit as perfect as he remembered. He couldn't exactly say what it was about her that made him feel this way, that constant awareness of her presence, that desire to impress her, the jolt of joy every time she was around.

"Hey Merlin, my lord."

"Hey Gwen! How was your day?" Merlin went bounding up to her, like a big dog. For a while, the three of them chatted about everything and nothing but soon, Arthur was feeling a little annoyed. He had planned to spend some time alone with Guinevere, and he had made that pretty clear to Merlin and yet, his silly manservant was still hanging around, discussing chicken with her.

He cleared his throat.

"Want some water Arthur?"

He frowned at Merlin. "No, I don't want water."

"Good because I think I might have drank it all."

What, Arthur wondered, would Guinevere think if he killed his hopeless, rude manservant. He didn't think she would understand.

"Don't you have chores to do?"

"No, you said that - oh. Oh chores! Yes, yes. I have chores to do. Lots of chores. In fact, I'm off to do my chores now. Goodbye Gwen! I'll see you around."

Arthur kept an eye on Merlin until he finally disappeared from sight. Amusement danced in Guinevere eyes and he could tell she was trying not to laugh.

"Too obvious?"

"Possibly. I am flattered though. I am just a commoner. And you, my lord, are the crown prince."

"You are not just a commoner. You are a talented, hard working blacksmith with a better heart than me."

The blush that stained her cheeks pleased him and when he took her hand, she said nothing. Under the canopy of trees, it felt like they were in their own world.

They had walked along the stream, finally settling down on a log nearby. Guinevere had taken off her shoes and swirled the water with her toes. They were pretty toes. He had asked her about her life and she'd told him stories of her growing up with her brother and father. It sounded almost idyllic.

"Some days I wake up and I think I don't want to be king." Arthur looked out into the trees that lined the stream.

"But why? Think of all the good you can do as king, for your people, for your kingdom."

Arthur remembered the sense of accomplishment he felt the evening before. Then he thought of all the other tedious things he was expected to do. "But to everyone, that is all I am - the prince. My whole life is defined by my title. Even coming here today, I had to sneak out of the castle. You, on the other hand, can be a blacksmith. Or a cook. Or a merchant. I can only be king."

"But I will always be a commoner. And I will always be powerless and poor and dependent on my king. You have all the power in the world."

"It's not easy," he muttered.

"Of course it isn't!" Her tone had cooled and he hated the idea that he might have disappointed her. But he didn't know what to say to make things better and Guinevere said nothing more.

Only the gurgling of the stream and the calling of the occasional bird interrupted the silence that descended. Eventually Arthur could no longer bear the silence.

"I spoke to my father about the tax raise. He agreed to not raise it for the time being."

She smiled at him, making his stomach clench. "Thank you."

"It was the right thing to do. You were right. I wasn't thinking about how the people would be affected by the tax raise."

Her hand covered his and she squeezed it. "I think you might make a good king. Are you sure you don't want to be king?"

Arthur laughed, pleased at her approval. "I would be a good king with you by my side."

She flushed, then laughed lightly before sobering. "Well, then. Here's some advice for my future king. You have been born to privilege and with that comes specific obligations. Not everyone is born to such privilege as you. And you have a whole kingdom depending on you."

He turned her to him and for a while, simply looked at her before speaking. "You might be the smartest person I know."

Then he kissed her, his hands sliding into her thick hair.

When her lips parted and she deepened their kiss, he dragged her closer to him, pressing her body to his. And for that one moment in time, his life was perfect.

She yelped and he pulled away in shock and concern. "What?"

"Oh my shoe!" And she pointed unhappily at her shoe floating slowly away in the stream.

"I'll get it for you," he declared and plunged into the stream.

"No. The rocks are -"

She didn't finish her words but he knew exactly what she was warning him about because he slipped immediately, landing face down into the stream.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" Guinevere rushed over to the side of the stream nearest to him and held out her arms. He ignored her, determined to rescue her shoe. But the rocks lining the bottom of the stream were slippery and he couldn't move more than few steps without slipping.

Then he saw that Guinevere had waded in after him. Falling, laughing and screaming, the two of them finally made it out of the stream, clinging to each other. They were both soaked and caked in mud. Arthur pushed her hair from her face and grinned at her.

"Sorry. I couldn't save your shoe."

"It's ok," she giggled as she wrung her dress. "Oh dear. Florence will not be pleased. My step-mother."

"Thank you for saving my life."

That made her laugh again. "I did no such thing."

"I could have drowned if it weren't for you."

"I doubt it. Come on. This is probably a sign we ought to be headed back."

Arthur smiled and took her hand again. It was wet, muddy and clammy but he didn't care.


	7. Chapter 7

"Was Florence angry when you returned late yesterday?" Hand in hand, Arthur and Gwen walked along the very stream that stole her shoe.

Gwen sighed as she remembered the quarrel that had ensued after she failed to creep into the house unseen. "Nothing I couldn't handle," she said, not wanting to spoil the rare moments she had with Arthur with complaints about her family, although in the past week, she'd discovered, much to her surprise, that Arthur could be a very good listener.

"I wanted to ask you something," Arthur said just as they sat on their usual rock next to the stream. "I was thinking about your father and how ill he was."

Letting herself lean against him, Gwen nodded her head. Arthur's arm immediately went round her and held her close.

"It occurred to me that your father can't be the only person who is sick and unable to afford the services of the royal physicians."

That piqued Gwen's interest and she pulled away to look up at him. "Of course," she said cautiously, not wanting to get her hopes up.

"I had Merlin speak to Gaius - they seem close for some reason - and Gaius said that he would be willing to provide his services to the people at no charge. So I was thinking we could offer the services of the royal physician for free once a week." His eyes met hers. "What do you think?"

Gwen bit down on her smile and tried to temper the growing pride and affection that she was feeling. "I think it's a brilliant idea. What does your father think of it?"

"He thinks I'm a fool but he has no objections if Gaius is willing." His arm slipped from her shoulder and he stretched before lying down on the rock, letting out a sigh. "I know it's a good idea but it would be nice to have him agree once in a while."

"Well, I agree," Gwen said teasingly.

His hand reached out and he tugged her so she collapsed against him. "And you don't know how much that means to me."

For a while, they lay quietly on the rock, Gwen happy to be away from the stress of her family and Arthur glad to be away from his father.

"Will you be in the tournament?"

"Of course! I am the reigning champion."

Gwen laughed. "I know that. It's why the people love you so much. You put on a good show for them."

Under her head, Gwen could feel Arthur's answering chuckle. "I do, don't I?"

"You're too full of yourself."

"You would be too if you went through the whole tournament unbeaten, like I did last year. Did you watch?"

"Ah, I didn't have tickets and I didn't have time to go early to get the free seats. But I heard a lot about it."

"Did you hear about me?" Arthur shifted so that he was on one elbow, looking down at her. His eyes sparkled with mischief.

"How could I not? They said your arrogance would be your downfall."

"Who?" Arthur frowned. "But they were wrong. And they will be wrong again this year. I'm going to be the champion again."

Laying a hand gently on his taut stomach, Gwen nodded. "I'm sure you will."

Arthur's eyes narrowed. "You don't sound like you believe it."

"Oh, how could I doubt the greatest knight of all Camelot?"

Arthur felt his cheeks heat up as she reminded him of what he'd called himself at the previous year's victory celebrations. "It's true."

"You're so -" But her words were smothered by Arthur's mouth as he kissed her. Lifting her arms, she twined them around his neck, ignoring the word in her head telling her that nothing would come out of this. Her father's illness had taught her to grasp whatever happiness she could get now and being with the prince made her very happy.

* * *

Arthur was humming, having dropped Gwen off just outside the lower town. Spending time with her not only made him happy, it also made him feel free. Unlike everyone else, she seemed to see him as a person, not just the crown prince of Camelot. Life hadn't been this good for him in a long time.

"Your father is looking for you," one of the guards informed him as he entered the castle and immediately his mood plummeted.

"Where were you? You weren't at training. Your manservant was also nowhere to be found." Uther glared at him from behind the throne.

Arthur bowed his head, hoping to appear contrite. "I'm sorry father. I went to the towns to check on the repairs."

"That wasn't on your schedule! But never mind. King Godwyn will be here tomorrow with his daughter and I want you around all the time. You will get to know Princess Elena and by the tournament ball, your engagement and wedding will be announced."

All the remaining happiness drained from Arthur. "No. No. I am not marrying a complete stranger."

"Don't be foolish. You have a week to get to know her. She'd hardly be a complete stranger then."

"Father. Marriage to a complete stranger never made anyone here happy!"

"Your happiness is not the issue here."

"I will quit the throne. Exile myself. I will not marry someone not of my choice." For the first time, without even waiting for his father to dismiss him, Arthur stormed out of the throne room. A myriad of thoughts swirled in him mind but all he could focus on was Gwen.

Merlin watched him warily as he stomped back to his room.

"Quarrel with Gwen did you? She's usually right so I'd suggest you admit you're wrong and apologise."

"Shut up Merlin." Flinging himself onto his bed, he buried his face in his pillows. Then he sat up. "Princess Elena, the lady I have been arranged to marry, is arriving tomorrow."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed." Arthur sighed again. "I told my father I would rather give up the crown than marry her."

"And how did he take it?" Merlin stopped polishing the candlestick and looked at him.

"I don't know. I thought that was the best moment for a dramatic exit."

"It was a good moment. Delays his blow up at you though."

"I can just imagine that. Maybe I'll come down with an awful cold and have to stay in bed the whole of tomorrow."

"And the rest of the week?" Merlin asked.

"And the rest of the week."

"Your father will just barge in here and blow up at you."

"Shut up Merlin."

* * *

The main street was teeming with people from all around, all hoping to win the 500 gold coins up for grabs at the Royal Tournament. Usually Gwen's interest in the many tournaments held by the castle was limited to how much business this drummed up for her smithy. But this time, things were different. The tournament, and winning it, meant a lot to Arthur and Gwen had to admit, she really wanted to be there to support him. Still, he hadn't invited her to watch and Gwen wasn't about to make the first move.

"You were up late again and breakfast was late as well," snapped Rosalind. "And nowadays, you keep running off to goodness knows where. Do you perchance have a beau?"

"I don't think this is any business of yours."

"Not my business? This is my family too!"

"Then maybe you'd want to pull your weight in the family instead of just sitting around and ordering me about."

Rosalind stamped her feet. "I'll tell father of your impertinence! And he was just about to get up and take a walk."

"Is he feeling stronger now?"

"You would know if you stayed around. And he won't be feeling so good once he learns what a selfish brat his daughter is."

The urge to retort was great but Gwen held her tongue. "Please Rosalind. I'm sorry I said those things. Don't upset Dad."

"Fine. I won't. But you'd better make sure the dress you're sewing for me is the most beautiful one you've ever done. I want to be the most gorgeous one at the tournament celebrations."

"Yes Rosalind." Just as she was about to walk away from Rosalind, Gwen remembered something. "Rosalind, did Taylor give you tickets to the tournament again this year?"

"Of course. I can't wait till he becomes a knight and then, I can get better tickets."

"But you never go for the tournaments. You say they are crowded and hot."

"So?"

Gwen hated asking for favours from her step-sister but there was no way she could afford a ticket on her own and she really wanted to watch Arthur in the tournament. "So I thought you could let me have it."

"You? You aren't interested in the tournament either!"

"Maybe I am now."

"Ha! No. I think I should go this year and find out what or who has caught your eye." And with those words, Rosalind smirked at her, then left the room.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: Thanks again for the comments! I've had a terrible week but I did want to post something. I hope you like the next part! 3

* * *

"Psst!"

Gwen looked up from the sword she was sharpening and smiled. Standing in her doorway was Arthur.

"Do people really not recognise you in this?" She tugged at the blue cloak he wore, laughing as he pulled away.

"I guess not. No one has said anything. Here, I brought you tickets to the tournament. I thought maybe you and your father might want to watch it this year, if he is well enough that is."

Warmth flooded her as she took the tickets from Arthur. "Thank you."

"You have to support me of course," he grinned.

Biting back a smile, she replied as seriously as possible. "I'll think about it."

"King Godwyn arrived yesterday. He's an important ally to Camelot."

Gwen nodded, wondering why Arthur was telling this to her.

"My father wants me to be around all the time so -" He trailed off, his eyes imploring her to understand.

"Are you trying to tell me we won't be seeing each other for a while?" Gwen asked.

"Yes. It's not that -"

Quickly, she placed her fingers on his lips, flushing when he kissed them. "I understand. Your duty to your kingdom comes first."

His hand wrapped around her fingers and he lowered them. "You truly believe that, don't you?" There was a message Gwen didn't understand in his eyes.

"Yes, of course. Being prince, you have obligations that you need to take up." She smiled up at him, slowly pulling her hand away. "I'll miss you but I'll get to see you in the tournament, won't I?"

"Gwen! Where are you?" Rosalind called from the house.

"I should go," said Arthur. "Just - I need you to know, I - you're very important to me."

Gwen could feel the heat in her cheeks at his words but she didn't know how to answer them. "Thank you," she said finally.

He tugged on his cloak and turned, about to leave when Gwen remembered something she had prepared the night before. She reached into a drawer and pulled out a piece of lilac cloth.

"Wait. I thought that you could wear this for luck during the tournament." Lots of people gave the knights tokens so Gwen wasn't sure why she was so nervous or why she couldn't seem to meet his eyes.

Arthur stopped and looked at the cloth, then back at her. For a moment, she thought he would turn her down. Then slowly, achingly, he took the cloth from her, his hand brushing hers. "Thank you." His voice was husky and it made her stomach do funny things.

Then he leaned over and kissed her. He pulled away, brushed a curl from her face and then he was gone.

She stood in the middle of the smithy, eyes closed, replaying the kiss in her mind. What had she gotten herself into?

"Gwen!"

"Coming Rosalind!"

* * *

Arthur won his round easily and the stands erupted into loud cheers. In the excitement, Gwen jumped to her feet and clapped, grinning when his fingers rubbed the cloth tied around his arm. After 3 rounds, the cloth was more grey than lilac and had specks of blood on it, but Gwen didn't care. Arthur wore it without fail and Gwen's heart lifted whenever she saw it.

"I didn't realize you were such a big fan of the prince. I still remember you complaining about the Pendragons before."

Gwen beamed at her father, sat back down and squeezed his hand, pleased that he was well enough to attend the tournament with her. Even Florence had been decent this morning, fussing over her father despite her disapproval of him attending the tournament. "Maybe I've seen that in some ways, they are people like you and me."

"Is there something you are not telling me?"

Heat rose in her cheeks and she simply smiled before pointing out that one of the men who had ordered a sword from them was fighting. Her father took the hint then started talking about swords.

It was late in the evening when they finally returned home. Rosalind said nothing as Gwen helped her father to bed but Florence made her unhappiness loudly known.

"It's not Gwen's fault," said her father as Florence helped him to bed. "I said I was well enough to stay."

Tutting, Florence shook her head. "She should have known better. Look at how exhausted you are."

"I had a great time."

"I hope it was worth your health!" snapped Florence.

Gwen busied herself with tidying up the kitchen, refusing to react to Rosalind's looks of pleasure, wondering how her family had ended up this way.

In the beginning, when her father and Florence married, she had been happy for her father. Her father hadn't been really happy in a long time and to see his eyes light up when Florence was around had been a joy. But then, this didn't last for long.

Rosalind had always been a difficult child, not helped by the fact that Florence often accused her father and her of leaving her out - an accusation that while not completely untrue (smithing had always been a special bond between Gwen and her father, something Rosalind didn't have) wasn't completely true either. They tried and perhaps they didn't try hard enough but Rosalind grew up seeing Gwen as competition. It didn't help that the moment Gwen's older brother, Elyan, the one person aside from her mother Rosalind was close to, was old enough, he ran off. It caused a great deal of stress and tension between her father and Florence and things just continued to get worse as time passed.

Florence came out of the bedroom, still in a mood. "Your father shouldn't be exerting himself like that."

"I'll keep an eye on him," said Gwen mildly. "And he had a good time after all these months of being cooped up at home."

"Have you started on Rosalind's dress. She got an invite to the ball and I want her to look good. You never know which noble's eye she could catch."

"Does Taylor know you're only using him to find a better husband?" asked Gwen snidely, then immediately felt guilty for her swipe.

Rosalind stood. "You -"

"Stop it. Both of you," said Florence.

"I'm going to the forge." Not waiting for either of them to answer, she swept out of the room.

* * *

Elena was nice. They even shared a love for riding. Arthur quite enjoyed her company but she wasn't Gwen and Arthur spent far too much time thinking of all the ways she wasn't Gwen.

"So you're planning to go through with the wedding?"

From his bed, Arthur shrugged, trying to ignore the panic and despair that coursed through him. "I don't know."

"You don't know? What about Gwen?"

"She's not a princess. And father wants me to marry Elena. It'll be good for Camelot."

Merlin dumped the rest of the clothes carelessly into the wardrobe and turned to Arthur. "That's complete and utter rubbish."

"You're out of line, Merlin." Arthur buried his face in his hands. He really didn't want to talk about this. Everytime he thought of his impending marriage, it felt like his whole life was over.

"Have you told Gwen?"

"No." He groaned. He'd wanted to that evening at her forge but he's chickened out. "What am I going to do? Gwen once said that with power comes specific obligations. Isn't getting into a politically advantageous marriage one of those obligations?"

Merlin sighed dramatically. "I know that life without love is no life at all. You are made for each other. She's your perfect match. I've seen how happy you two are together."

Arthur lifted his head. "I don't know Merlin."

"How do you feel about Gwen?"

Words ran through Arthur's head but they all seemed inadequate to describe the way Gwen made him feel. "I feel like I want to be a better person and prince for her," he finally said.

"If you don't fight for her, then you don't deserve her." Merlin shook his head and left the room.

Half-heartedly, Arthur tossed a mug at the door.

An hour later, he marched to his father's chambers. As much as he hated to admit it, Merlin was right.


	9. Chapter 9

"I'm not -." Arthur's words died in his mouth when he saw King Godwyn and Lady Elena were with his father. "Your highness, Lady Elena." He bowed, thankful he hadn't said much more.

"Ah, Prince Arthur." King Godwyn smiled at him. "You have been very impressive in the tournament. Elena is lucky to marry someone such as you."

"I am lucky to marry Elena," he said without thinking, then shut his eyes, swearing inside. This was the exact wrong thing to say.

"Good, good. This will be a great union between our kingdoms," said his father, slapping him on the back.

Everything was going so wrong and a sick feeling grew in Arthur's stomach. "Father, I need to talk to you."

"Not now," said his father with a wave of his arm. "Why don't you and Elena take a walk, do something."

Once the doors of the throne room shut behind them, Arthur groaned.

"What would you like to do?" Elena asked politely, ignoring his groans.

Arthur looked at Elena. She smiled at him but for the first time, Arthur noticed her smile was forced and didn't reach her eyes. It was a risk but Gwen was worth it. Sucking in a breath, Arthur gestured for her to follow him to a small alcove. A frown marred her forehead but she followed anyway.

"I'm not doing -"

Arthur shook his head. "Look, I have to be honest with you, Elena. I can't marry you." The words gushed out of him and Arthur wasn't sure if they even made sense.

Her eyes widened although Arthur was relieved she didn't look like she was about to cry. "You can't or you won't?"

"Both. I'm sorry. I -"

A genuine smile spread across Elena's face. "I feel the same way. I don't want to marry you. Not that you're not a good person or that you have any bad habits or bad hygiene but, marriage is really not something I want."

"What do you want?" Arthur asked curious. All the ladies he knew from court appeared to spend all their time worrying about their marriage.

"I want to see the world," said Elena, her eyes taking on a faraway look. Then she smiled. "It's the real reason I agreed to come here. I've never been to Camelot before."

"And marriage will not allow that?"

Elena smiled again. "I don't know. I do know I don't particularly want to get married. And not to someone I barely know."

"I'm glad we agree on that," said Arthur. He let out another breath. "What do we do now?"

* * *

After several rounds of fighting, the final day of the tournament was upon them. Gwen hadn't seen Arthur the whole week, although she did see him fight, and she missed him. She missed their walks in the forest, their conversations about Camelot and her forge. She missed his touch. Which was troubling because she'd told herself from the very first time she met him in the forest that she would be sensible about the whole thing. Arthur was running away from being prince and Gwen knew that with her, he could pretend he wasn't prince. The truth was she did the same. With Arthur, she allowed herself to pretend that she was attractive and interesting enough for a prince to want her.

It was all supposed to be an escape, pretend.

It wasn't supposed to feel so real.

"Are you working on my dress?" Rosalind walked into the room and leaned against a wall. "Remember what I want."

Gwen nodded. "I know. You've told me often enough."

"I have to look good at the ball. If I can get a noble to take an interest in me, then all our money woes will be over." Rosalind sauntered over to where Gwen sat, the red cloth Rosalind had picked out draped over her.

"The nobles will be in the Royal Ball, not mixing it up with the rest of us," said Gwen as she slid the needle into the fabric.

"You never know. Some of them might think the Royal Ball too stuffy. Frankly, I would love to catch the eye of the prince but I heard from Taylor that he's betrothed to some princess already."

The needle pricked her finger, drawing blood. But the pain was nowhere near the pain that sliced through her heart at Rosalind's words.

"Don't get all that blood on my dress!" said Rosalind with a huff. "I'm going to the market with Mum."

Then Gwen was all alone. She blinked a few times, blew out a shuddering breath then straightened her shoulders.

It was supposed to be pretend.

It shouldn't hurt so much.

* * *

"I thought we had this discussion already and if I remember correctly, you said, not long ago, that you were lucky to marry Elena."

Why was the room so quiet? Why could he hear his heart pounding? "I wasn't thinking when I said that."

Uther leaned back into his chair, crossing his arms in front of him. "You need to marry. You are 21 and it's high time you were married."

"Then at least let me choose my own bride."

"Elena is politically useful."

The coldness in that sentence chilled Arthur. "There is no point in her being politically useful if we are going to be unhappy. A kingdom cannot be successful if her rulers are unhappy. You loved mother. And you chose to marry her."

Uther considered him for a while, and Arthur felt his heart was about to burst out of his chest. That was, if the pounding in his head didn't kill him first.

"Elena doesn't want to marry me either."

Only the slight quirk of Uther's eyebrow told Arthur he was surprised. The rest of Uther remained impassive.

"In fact," Arthur continued, "she is speaking to her father about it right now. I am not the boy I was two months ago, father. Haven't I shown you that?"

"It is true that you have changed, Arthur. For years I worried that you had no interest in running the kingdom but you have matured over the past month. I admit, this marriage was arranged to force you grow up and accept your responsibilities as prince."

"And now, I accept my responsibilities. I don't need a marriage to make me grow up." The tightness in his throat eased a little as hope fluttered in his stomach.

Uther nodded. "I still want you married. But, I will allow you to choose your bride, assuming her and her father agrees. You have until the end of the Royal Tournament Ball. There will be many suitable noble ladies there."

"I can choose to marry anyone who is at the ball?"

"Yes. I trust you will choose sensibly."

This was better than Arthur expected and he thanked his father, bowed and made to leave the room. Now all he had to do was to figure out someway to get Guinevere into the Royal Ball.

"Merlin!" He yelled as he walked back to his room.


	10. Chapter 10

Arthur paced his chambers as Merlin lounged on the chair, watching him with far too much amusement in his eyes.

"We could get her to be one of the maidservants for the Royal Ball, right?"

Merlin scoffed. "Gwen is a blacksmith, not a maidservant. And you know how full of strange, undecipherable traditions all your royal events are. What if she serves the food in the wrong order? And really, you want to marry her so you ask her to work at your ball?"

Arthur sat on his bed, rubbing his face. "You're right. That's an awful idea."

"Yeah. And not just because you suddenly announcing you're marrying one of the servants in the room isn't going to go down well with your father."

"I get the point, Merlin." Fingers at his temple, he massaged it gently. "What do you suggest?"

"Why don't you just give her an invitation card?"

"And then she walks up to the guards and they question her on her parentage? The land she owns or is heir to? What will she say?"

Merlin slouched even further into the chair, enjoying this more than Arthur liked, then said, "She'll say that she's the youngest daughter of Lord and Lady of Thisbet."

"Where on earth is Thisbet?" The realisation dawned on him. "You mean for her to lie."

"It's not like the guards will know." Merlin stretched then curled up again on the chair.

Arthur walked over and shoved him. "That's my chair, and the guards may be fooled but what about my father?"

"Then we'll pretend she's a distant relative of some Lord from some far off place then. There's enough truth there for your father to believe."

"What about when he wants to invite them for the wedding?"

Merlin finally stood, leaving a dent in the cushion of his chair. "Hey, you wanted a way to bring her to the ball. I wasn't thinking about your wedding. Also, don't you think you probably want to make sure she wants to marry you before announcing it at the ball?"

Arthur's head dropped into his hands.

* * *

Her father said nothing when Gwen pleaded tiredness as the reason she didn't want to watch the semi-finals of the tournament. Instead, he sat on a stool in the forge watching her with eyes that seemed to know too much.

"You've become a very good smithy," he said.

A smile turned up the corner of her lips. "I had a great teacher."

"I'm sorry, Gwen."

Gwen slowly placed the horseshoe she was working on down and turned to face her father. "For falling sick? You couldn't have -"

"No. For bringing Florence and Rosalind into our family."

"Ah." Gwen picked up the horseshoe again.

"They've been giving you a hard time."

"Florence is not so bad. She ignores me most of the time. And she might not care for me, but she loves you."

"Still, it was selfish of me."

Putting down the horseshoe again, Gwen walked over to her father, kneeling in front of him. "Dad. It's done already. As difficult as it is, they are family now." She took one of his hands and squeezed it. "I know you were feeling lonely after Mum's death. And as much as Rosalind is a pain, I know you still love Florence and in her way, she loves you. And sometimes, love is worth it."

Her father regarded her closely and Gwen knew she'd said too much. "Rosalind keeps talking about finding a husband. What about you?"

Gwen forced a laugh, then stood up. "I'm too busy with the forge to be concerned about love and husbands."

Her father chuckled behind her. "You're a big girl now. You should be looking to start a family of your own, not be tied to this one. There are many good young men in town. What about the prince's manservant. He visits you often."

"Merlin?" Gwen asked. "He's just a friend!"

"Of course," said her father and Gwen realised that he didn't believe her.

As Gwen worked, several customers came in and out of the forge and it was nice having her father around dealing with them, even if he wasn't up to the actual smithing. They laughed together at unreasonable customers, he dispensed tips and advice and Gwen just enjoyed a warm afternoon with her father.

Just as the sun dipped and Gwen was cleaning up to close the forge, someone pushed open the gate and stepped in.

"We're closed," she heard her father say. Then in a surprised tone, he continued. "Oh, my lord. I did not realise it was you."

Arthur.

Her heart stopped. Then started up at twice the speed. Her once steady hands started to tremble. She refused to turn to look at him, despite the burning need in her. All that hurt that she'd thought she'd managed to bury came bubbling up to the surface.

"Gwen, the prince is here to see you."

She knew she was being rude, refusing to turn around to face Arthur.

"Guinevere," her father repeated, as if he was unsure at her behaviour. "I'm sorry. She's a little busy right now. Would you like -"

"No, thank you. I'll wait for her here." Arthur's voice. How she'd missed it.

"Then, if you don't mind, my lord, I'll take my leave."

There was footsteps, the sound of a door closing and Gwen knew she was all alone in the forge with Arthur.

Still she didn't turn.

"Gwen." He'd moved closer. "Is something wrong?"

Blinking back tears that suddenly developed, Gwen finally turned around. She dipped into a curtsey. "My lord."

Arthur frowned. "You don't - what's wrong Gwen?" He was standing within touching distance but he wasn't touching her. His eyes were warm and concerned.

"I've been very busy."

A smile spread on his face. "I know. Your swords are very popular, as they should be." He took another step towards her, then gently cupped her cheek.

How could he touch her with so much love when he was about to marry someone else?

"I used your sword in the tournament," Arthur said, still smiling down affectionately at her.

Gwen took a step back, so his hand dropped. "I'm glad it served you well."

"There's something wrong," Arthur said. "Have I made you unhappy? I know I haven't been able to see you recently and I've missed -"

"Just tell me what you came to say," Gwen finally said, unable to stem the bitterness in her voice. Did Arthur think she was a fool? That some sweet words and smiles would make her forget his impending marriage and continue some sort of clandestine relationship with him?

"I, well, I did want to talk to you about something, about us." He rubbed his neck and looked oddly vulnerable in the moonlight.

Suddenly, Gwen didn't want to hear it. She didn't want to hear about how he was going to marry someone that was not her. She didn't want to hear about how she was a pleasant distraction. "There's no us."

Arthur blinked at her words. "What do you mean?"

"There's no us. There's me, a blacksmith and you, the crown prince."

"Yes," said Arthur slowly. "But there can be an -"

But Gwen wasn't listening anymore, the pain of seeing Arthur in her forge, so close yet so far, was too much. "Good luck with the tournament but it's best that we don't see each other anymore."

"- us. I just -" Arthur stopped, her words finally sinking in. "Don't see each other anymore?" He repeated.

Gwen nodded.

"I thought that -"

"It was just a moment of madness," she said. "I have to go back in now." Her voice cracked and Gwen knew just a few more seconds and she would be in tears.

He reached out to touch her. "But -"

Shrugging away his touch, Gwen took a step back. "Goodbye Arthur."

Then, coward as she was, she darted to the door to her house and went in. Her father looked curiously at her and she was hugely relieved that Florence and Rosalind were not home.

"Gwen?"

"I'm tired, Dad. I'm going to sleep."

But she didn't sleep, lying in bed instead, her face buried in her pillow as she cried over lost dreams she never knew she had.

* * *

Thanks for the comments and the lovely notes. My week is definitely much better! :)


	11. Chapter 11

When Gwen's father stepped out into the forge, Arthur tensed, unsure if he should leave or not. He was still shaken by Gwen's sudden rejection and was contemplating between charging into her home to insist she tell him what happened and returning to his chambers to lick his wounds.

"My lord."

Great, now Gwen's father was angry with him too.

"Thomas," Arthur nodded. He wasn't quite sure what to say next. Should he ask about Gwen?

"My daughter is in her room crying."

The dull pain that throbbed in his heart since Gwen said they not see each other anymore increased in intensity. His fingers curled into his palms and he couldn't tell if he was more upset that she'd broken up with him or that she was clearly hurting like he was.

"Honestly, I am not sure what happened," said Arthur.

"What have you done?" Thomas might have just recovered from a serious illness, but Arthur could hear the steel in his voice. "When did you and Gwen start this - this affair?"

Arthur cringed at word 'affair'. "Gwen is more than an affair to me -"

"She's not some commoner you can just use," snapped Thomas. "I know what you royal types are like."

Arthur shook his head, shocked at the implication. "I would never treat Gwen this way. She means far too much."

"She's a commoner, you're the crown prince. This was always going to end in heartbreak, no matter what you feel." Thomas's jaw worked.

"It's not!" Arthur took a breath and repeated himself more calmly. "It's not going to end in heartbreak. If I can speak to Gwen, we'll sort this out." When Thomas said nothing, Arthur continued. "I love Gwen. I want a life with her by my side. And I believe she loves me too."

The coldness in Thomas's eyes seem to warm a little at Arthur's words. "She's not a princess."

"No," said Arthur. "But she's Gwen."

"I assume you have something worked out," said Thomas warily. "Because I don't care who you are, if Gwen is hurt badly, you will have to answer to me."

Arthur bowed slightly. "Of course."

"Knowing Gwen, she's not going to want to talk to you tonight," said Thomas. "Perhaps if you come by tomorrow morning."

That would mean sneaking out of the castle and possibly missing breakfast with his father. "I'll be here tomorrow. Thank you."

Thomas grunted, watching him with narrowed eyes as Arthur pulled the hood back over his face. "Does that hood really hide your identity?"

* * *

Gwen knew she hadn't had enough sleep, having spent most of the night crying, but surely she wasn't so far gone as to be imagining Arthur sitting at the table talking to her father.

"Dad?"

Thomas eased himself from the table, then kissed her forehead. "He's a nice boy. I'm going to the market to meet Florence and Rosalind. You have a nice breakfast."

Before Gwen could say anything, her father was gone.

"Why are you here?"

"I didn't stay the night, if that's what you're asking." Arthur stood, took her hand gently and led her to the table. "Sit."

She sat obediently, her mind still refusing to make sense of what was happening.

"Merlin helped me nick all these from the kitchens. I wasn't sure what you'd like for breakfast but there's cured meat, eggs, some bread -"

"Why are you here?" Gwen asked once more.

Arthur sighed. "You need to tell me why we can't see each other anymore. I think I deserve that at least."

"I may be just a commoner, but I am not going to be your mistress."

"My mistress? Who gave you that idea?"

Gwen thought that she'd cried herself dry last night. Clearly she was wrong. She sniffed. "Rosalind said that you are going to marry a princess soon and that it would be announced at the Royal Ball."

A small, wry smile appeared on Arthur's face. "She got a little of that right. I am due to announce my marriage at the Royal Ball."

"Congratulations," said Gwen coldly. She didn't understand anything. Why was Arthur torturing her like that? She never thought he would have been capable of that. She had thought he at least cared enough for her to not want to hurt her in this manner.

"But," he continued, ignoring her, "I'm not marrying a princess."

"A lady of the courts then," said Gwen, except the way Arthur was looking at her made something that felt like hope blossom in her chest.

"She's a lady but not of the courts." Arthur took her hand in both of his, his gaze warm and full of love, yet full of that nervousness she'd noticed last night. "Guinevere, I love you. Will you marry me?"

Gwen stared at him. Her mouth opened but she found herself speechless.

"I know it's a little quick and if I had my way, we wouldn't rush into this. But I also know for sure that you're the one for me. Just being with you makes me happy, makes me feel like I can accomplish anything, makes me want to be a better person."

"I never knew you were so eloquent," said Gwen, the tears swimming in her eyes quite different from the ones she shed the night before.

"Say yes," whispered Arthur.

"Yes. Yes I'll marry you." Then she was pulled out of her chair, into his arms. Winding her arms around his neck, she buried her face in his throat, unable to stop the tears from spilling. When she pulled back, Arthur rubbed his thumb across her lower lip, his eyes darkening with desire.

"I love you, Gwen." Arthur said again.

"I love you too." She raised her mouth and kissed him.

Some time later, as she popped a grape into her mouth, she laughed, almost choking when Arthur confessed he'd written his proposal earlier and stayed up practising it. His arms were loose around her waist as she sat snugly on his lap.

"Here," said Arthur, passing her a white card.

Wiping her hands on her skirt, she picked it up and looked at it curiously.

"It's an invitation to the Royal Ball."

"Oh." She remembered Arthur mentioning announcing his marriage then. Her good mood suddenly vanished. "Arthur, is this a good idea?"

"I'm expected to announce my marriage," he said, taking a bite out of a sausage.

"I mean us, marrying. I'm just a blacksmith. Arthur, they will be expecting you to take a royal as a bride, not some girl from the middle town."

"Which is why you are going to have to pretend to be the youngest niece of Lord Hubert." Arthur flipped the card over, showing her where her name was scrawled, next to the words 'Lady of Westport'.

"Westport? That's a month's ride from here." Gwen stared at her name on the card. "And your father would know."

Arthur closed his fingers around her hand. "Let me deal with my father. I just need to get you into the Ball."

"What if your father objects to us?"

"He won't," said Arthur, although a flash of worry crossed his face.

"You really want to marry me?"

Arthur smiled, squeezing her fingers, kissing her hair. "You know I do."

"It's not going to be easy, is it?"

"No. But it'd be worth it." His lips brushed against her ear and she wriggled in his lap.

Gwen took a deep breath. Despite Arthur's insistence his father would not object, Gwen knew that no one was going to be happy with their marriage. "You'll be on my side, all the time?"

"Yes."

Closing her eyes, Gwen leaned into Arthur. "I'll marry you Arthur Pendragon."

"Good," he said.


	12. Chapter 12

"You were not at breakfast," Uther said, entering Arthur's room without knocking.

"Father," said Arthur, his arm still held out as Merlin was securing his vambrance. "I had something important to attend to."

Uther stopped in front of Arthur. "More important than dine with the kings of the five kingdoms?"

"Yes. I'm sorry. I will be there at dinner tonight." Merlin moved to his other arm and Arthur watched warily as Uther picked up his sword.

"This is the sword you've been using in the tournament?"

"Yes."

"It's not made by the royal smith." Uther swung it through the air a few times, then weighed it on his palm. "Still, it is exceptionally well made."

Pride swelled up in Arthur, as if he'd made the sword himself. "It is very well made. The smithy who made it is very skilled."

With a grunt, Uther put the sword back down. "Most of our royal guests have arrived. Have you put any thought into who you would like to marry? I understand that Lady Wendy is particularly attractive."

Immediately, Arthur thought of Gwen, the way her eyes danced when she smiled, the bubble of happiness that seemed to expand in him whenever he was with her. "I do have someone in mind," he said.

"Hmmph." Uther placed the sword back down on the table. "I hope that you will choose wisely."

"You promised I could choose a wife from anyone at the ball," said Arthur. As much as he loved his father, he didn't quite trust him.

Uther nodded, but it was clear his mind was on something else already. "Make me proud out there."

"I will."

The moment the door shut behind Uther, Merlin spoke. "How do you think he'll react when you choose to marry Gwen?"

"You mean, Lady Guinevere of Westport?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, then pulled hard, tightening the rerebrace, causing Arthur to wince. "You may get her past the guards into the ball, but someone in that mass of royals you have gathered in that room is bound to realise that there isn't a Lady of Westport."

Arthur grunted. Why Merlin persisted on acting like he was a fool was beyond him. He knew that getting Gwen into the ball was just the first step.

"Are you planning to spring the news to your father during the ball?"

"That is the plan."

Merlin raised his eyebrows but continued to put on his armour. "And I suppose your father will accept the fact that you're planning to marry a blacksmith with good grace."

"I am hoping his desire to maintain some sort of facade as a kind and just king in front of his peers will stay his temper." Arthur flexed his arms, adjusting the armour as Merlin turned away to pick up his sword.

"Good luck with that," said Merlin in a tone that suggested he didn't approve of Arthur's plan at all.

With a scowl, Arthur snapped. "What would you have me do?"

"Tell your father beforehand. There's too much uncertainty in your plan. Humiliate Gwen in front of all the nobles and I suspect you'll lose her as well. Here." Merlin tossed his helmet to him. "Frightened?"

Swinging his sword, he glared at Merlin. "No I'm not scared. I don't get scared."

That only elicited a chuckle from Merlin. By now, it was a ritual the two of them went through before Arthur entered any fight. Smacking Merlin on the shoulder, Arthur pulled the helmet over his head and walked out into the final round of the tournament.

The commentator announced his name to thunderous applause and Arthur walked out, head held high. The familiar cheers and the heady smell of blood and sweat wrapped around him like a comforting blanket. He had done this many times, emerged victorious in most of them and so the thumping of his heart could hardly be a result of nerves. Normally, he would stand in the middle and wait passively for the challenger to enter the ring but this time, he craned his neck, scanning the audience, desperate to see if Gwen was there.

"Sire." Dragging his gaze to his challenger's face, Arthur nodded.

The bell rang. Raising his sword, Arthur blocked the first blow instinctively.

* * *

Her father hadn't said anything since that morning Arthur asked her to marry him. When he returned from the market with Florence and Rosalind, he'd merely smiled at her then gone about his day, as if the prince of Camelot hadn't just paid an early morning visit to their home.

Arm in arm, her father and her threaded their way through the town. Excitement was in the air and it seemed like everyone was outside, soaking in the festive atmosphere. Ribbons and flags fluttered in the wind, the colour red dominating the streets.

"They are celebrating the prince's victory a little prematurely, don't you think? I hear Sir Leon is a very capable fighter."

Gwen could see the amusement in her father's eyes and smiled at his teasing. "I'm sure Prince Arthur will prevail." She kept her voice light, even as nerves churned in her stomach. Winning the tournament meant a lot to Arthur. And after the tournament would be the Royal Ball to celebrate the winner. Her nerves kicked up a notch and she placed a hand on her stomach, hoping to calm herself.

"Thomas! You look good!" Old Joseph walked up to them, clamping a hand on her father's shoulder. "It's been a while."

"My health hasn't been great lately but it's getting better now."

Leaving the two old friends to catch up, Gwen wandered to the stalls that lined the road. They sold the usual knick-knacks, and she half-heartedly looked through them. She picked up some cups, looked at them then put them down again. Then she walked over to the next stall and ran her hands across the various clothing items on sale. Her mind drifted to the Royal Ball and that ball of nerves in her expanded. By tomorrow night, she would need a dress for the ball. She had planned to sew one but now she wondered if the short time frame would mean she wouldn't be able to sew one that was fancy enough for the ball.

With a sigh, Gwen rubbed small circles on her stomach and moved on. A quick glance told her that her father was still in deep conversation with Old Joseph.

"Gwen! I haven't seen you around recently."

Startled from her increasingly anxious thoughts, Gwen lifted her head to see Adriane, her childhood friend, smiling at her.

"You know how it is when tournament period comes around," said Gwen, returning the smile.

"That necklace you like is still around," said Adriane playfully. "Want to hold it again?"

For months, Gwen had been admiring a gorgeous necklace Adriane had for sale. A red, unidentified stone sat in the middle of a delicately crafted metal claw. It was not cheap, which was why despite its beauty, it still sat amongst the other less exquisite jewellery Adriance sold.

A sudden urge grabbed her. "I'll take it."

Adriane's eyes widened, and she leaned over the narrow table that separated them. "Are you sure? I know we're friends but I can't sell it to you much cheaper."

Nodding, Gwen chewed on her lip as she dug into her bag for some coins. "Business has been good," she said as a way of explaining.

"Alright." Adriane gently cradled the necklace, then placed it carefully in Gwen's palms. "It'll look gorgeous against your skin, but we already know that." She laughed, as she pocketed Gwen's money. "I hope you have a dress lovely enough to wear it with."

Gwen hoped so too.

Just as she slipped the necklace into her pocket, she heard her father call her. Turning, she smiled and waved.

"Sorry. Let's hurry or we'll miss the prince's final round."

* * *

AN: Just a bit of filler before we get to the Ball! Will Arthur win? ;P


	13. Chapter 13

With a shout and and a clash of the gong, the tournament ended with Leon sprawled on the dirt, Arthur's sword at his neck and the crowd going completely wild. Everyone loves a winner, thought Gwen as she waved the tiny flag she'd been given, the thrill of seeing Arthur win dampened by the doubts that had been slowly creeping into her mind.

"You can express your happiness, you know," said her father from her side, warm amusement in his voice as he too waved his flag in the air.

"I am," said Gwen, waving the flag a little more vigorously to prove her point. Her father chuckled, and that, more than Arthur's win, warmed her heart. Once the ball was over, she would bake a cake to thank Merlin.

She saw Arthur searching the crowds but he was distracted as Leon hugged him. As Arthur turned to bow in the direction of the royal box, where all the visiting nobles sat on plush cushions, Gwen was reminded once again how far she was from being a noble. Her stomach clenched and she berated herself. She'd never lacked confidence, never cared that she was just a peasant in Camelot but now, her status plagued her. What was she and Arthur thinking?

Her father touched her arm. "Why are you frowning?"

Blinking to clear her head, Gwen shifted to look at her father. "How, without the tournament, we're going to have to worry about money again." Her hand slipped into her pocket and wrapped around the expensive necklace she could barely afford nestled within.

"Oh Gwen. You shouldn't worry. I'm feeling much better now. I can return to the forge." People pushed past them, leaving the grounds now that the tournament was over. Her father slung an arm around her shoulder, holding her close against the jostling. "And you can do something for yourself."

"I like being a blacksmith."

Against her, she felt her father laugh. "I think you might have greater things awaiting you in the future."

Her hand squeezed the necklace and the edges cut into her palm. "Do you think so?" Her voice was soft, so only her father would hear her.

"I think the prince is a good man."

Gwen frowned. "You don't even know him."

"But my very sensible and smart daughter does and I think she thinks he's a good man."

Gwen leaned against him, hoping that she hadn't allowed her emotions to get the better of her when she'd said yes to Arthur, all the possibilities that this could go wrong. Her stomach churned again and she clutched the necklace, now a symbol of her foolishness. Buying the necklace was an impulsive decision, spending money she should have been saving.

"Let's go home. I'm tired and I believe you have a dress to finish?" Her father squeezed her shoulders and they allowed the crowd to push them onto the main streets.

* * *

"Did you see her at the tournament?" asked Arthur as Merlin pulled off his armour. He'd tried looking for her in the crowd but Leon had distracted him and then suddenly, the crowd was surging out of the area.

"She was there with her father. She's already agreed to marry you. What does it matter if she was at the tournament?" Merlin teased, a smirk on his face.

Arthur rolled his eyes, even as his heart did a little jig behind his ribs. "It's none of your business."

The smirk on Merlin's face only grew bigger and Arthur reached around, picked up his gloves and smacked Merlin on the shoulder.

"Arthur." Immediately, his smile disappeared as Uther stepped into the tent. "Decent performance out there. Although your footwork was sloppy at times. And if Leon hadn't been so careless, you wouldn't have won so easily."

"I'll do better," muttered Arthur.

"I expect you at dinner tonight. It will be a good time to meet the various ladies."

Arthur could feel Merlin's gaze on him. He forced a smile. "I'll be there."

"They are all lovely ladies. Of course, some are more strategic than others." Uther said, again picking up the sword Gwen made. "This is a very good sword. It must be the reason you won. You must introduce me to the smitty one day."

"I will," said Arthur, his eyes flicking to Merlin who raised his eyebrows. "You'll definitely meet the smitty."

"Maybe he can replace the royal smitty. Such craftsmanship should be at our beck and call."

"Of course, father."

Uther placed the sword down. "Don't be late for dinner." And then, he swept out of the tent.

"Well, I guess Gwen's blacksmithing skills might make her strategic too," said Merlin.

"Shut up."

* * *

Candles lit the room, the soft strands of music floated in the air and a jester juggled some balls in a corner of the room. Above the music, the clank of cutlery and the chatter of the guests filled the room. Lifting a goblet to his lips, Arthur let his eyes scan the various noble families who were in attendance. Next to him, his father was deep in conversation with King Godwyn, the words 'borders' and 'infiltration' thrown about as easily as 'good food' and 'more wine'. He briefly wondered if, at King Godwyn's side, Elena was as bored as him. A quick look told him that she was having a lot more fun with Lady Marian. His eyes met Merlin's who was topping up an already drunk Lord Hector's goblet. A grin and a shrug and Arthur felt that Merlin was no more sympathetic to his position than the jester.

"Prince Arthur, may I introduce you to my daughter, Lady Belinda."

Pulled out of his thoughts, Arthur plastered a smile on his face and took Lady Belinda's hand as protocol demanded. "Lovely to meet you."

And that was the start of the queue of ladies Arthur was introduced to. Some of them smiled flirtatiously at him while others looked as pained as he felt by the whole situation. When the dancing started, Arthur made a beeline for Elena, she being the only one in the room who didn't want to marry him or who wasn't being forced by their parents to.

"You're very popular," she said as she placed her hand on his shoulder. "As you should be, crown prince of the most powerful kingdom, winner of the tournament."

"I don't want to be popular."

"My father says that you will be selecting your bride from these ladies here." When she stepped on his foot, she giggled then grinned sheepishly at him. "Sorry."

It was his first real smile of the evening. "Something like that."

"Then shouldn't you be spending time with these ladies instead of dancing with me?" This time, she stumbled and bumped into his chest with a slight oof. "Sorry. You might survive the night if you stop dancing with me."

"I might but I much rather you shred my feet to pieces with those lethal shoes of yours than dance with the other ladies." He twirled her, silently thankful Elena didn't fall.

"I don't understand. You didn't want to marry me but you're willing to marry one of these ladies whom you don't seem particularly interested in? Not, that I'm angling to marry you but it doesn't make any sense to me."

Looking around to ensure no one was too close, Arthur bent close to Elena. "There is someone else. Someone I want to marry."

"Someone not in this hall?" Her eyes widened and she stepped on his foot again.

He nodded curtly. "Don't say anything to anyone."

"My lips are sealed. Will your father allow your marriage?"

"He did say I can marry anyone who's at the ball."

Cocking her head, Elena studied him. "And so you got her an invite to the ball. You know, this isn't what you father had in mind."

Arthur grunted, Merlin's own words from the morning echoing in his mind.

"Now," said Elena with the same conspiratory tone Arthur had used earlier. "tell me about Lady Marian. She's one of the few female knights in Camelot, isn't she?"

* * *

His father stood silhouetted against the window when Arthur entered his room.

"Father."

"Ah, Arthur." Placing the goblet he was holding onto his desk, he crossed over to Arthur. "Have you come to consult me on your bride?"

Arthur nodded, his throat suddenly dry.

"Good. I always knew you were a sensible boy. Now, since for some foolish reason, you have declined to marry Elena, who is the most strategic of the lot, I think that -"

"I've decided who I want to marry," said Arthur.

"Alright. And that person is?"

Sucking in a breath, Arthur closed his eyes. "I want to marry Gwen."

"Gwen? Is she King Robert's ward?" A frown creased Uther's forehead, and disapproval darkened his eyes. The walls of Uther's room seemed to close in on Arthur and all he could hear was the thumping of his heart.

"She's the smitty who made my sword."


	14. Chapter 14

The dress lay on her bed while Gwen stood at the foot and stared at it, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. For something made over two days, it was an excellent example of her skill as a seamstress. Slowly, she placed the necklace on the dress, admiring how well they went together.

Tonight, as her father had said, would be the beginning of the rest of her life. He'd kissed the top of head, told her he was proud of her before he and Florence went out for an evening walk. A shiver ran through her and she hugged herself.

"Gwen! I need you to -" Rosalind barged into the room without so much as a knock, despite the closed door. "Oh. That's a gorgeous dress." Immediately her eyes narrowed. "Are you going to the ball as well?"

As calmly as possible, Gwen picked up the dress, holding it gingerly behind her back. "I might."

"What's up with you recently? You used to think the Royal Tournament as little more than useless pomp and ceremony and now you're attending the tournament, going for the ball." Before Gwen could reply, Rosalind eye's fell on the table in the corner. "What is that? It has the royal seal -"

With her arms full of her dress, Gwen could not stop Rosalind from grabbing the invitation card.

Accusing eyes pierced hers. "You have an invite to the Royal Ball."

Her throat dry, Gwen nodded. She was unsure of what to say - tell Rosalind about Arthur? Lie? Gwen's heart felt like the card, the sharp pain of Rosalind's nails digging into her.

"How did you get it?" Rosalind took a step forward, waving the card in Gwen's face.

The tone of Rosalind's voice only made Gwen tilt her head up. Standing her ground, Gwen said as calmly as possible, "The prince invited me."

"Liar. How would someone like you even know the prince?" A finger poked at Gwen. "You know what I think? I think you stole it." Rosalind looked at the card again and a cold smile spread across her face. "Lady of Westport? I knew you stole it!"

"Give it back to me," said Gwen, her even tone belied the storm brewing in her stomach. "It's mine."

Rosalind laughed. "Yours? As far as I know, you are no Lady of Westport."

Gwen dropped her dress and lunged at Rosalind. But Rosalind saw it coming, dodged and Gwen ended up on the ground. A sharp pain shot through her ankle and Gwen glared up at Rosalind, blinking back the tears that suddenly sprung in her eyes.

With a shake of her head, Rosalind tutted at her. "I always knew that that goody-two-shoes personality of yours was just an act." Then, realising Gwen couldn't move, she walked over and took her dress. "You won't be needing this."

"Rosalind, father will -" But Rosalind, card in one hand and dress in another, sauntered out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

"I'm nervous," Arthur blurted as he paced across his room for the millionth time.

"I thought you never got nervous," said Merlin, although there was a distinct lack of cheeriness in his voice.

"That was in duels, fool." He tugged at his collar, it suddenly feeling so tight he couldn't breathe. "Father was not happy. He's going to be less happy when I announce Gwen as my bride."

Merlin handed Arthur his jacket. "He did explicitly tell you that there was no way in hell he was going to let you marry a lowly blacksmith."

"He called Gwen a gold grubbing wench!" Arthur pulled the jacket on violently, angry that Uther dared pass such judgement on Gwen. "And I'm marrying her whether he likes it or not."

"That's not what you told him," said Merlin quietly, disapproval dripping from him.

"Are you acting dumb or are you really that foolish?" snapped Arthur. "A prolonged quarrel with my father would change nothing. So I agreed I would reconsider the appropriateness of my bride. I never said I wouldn't marry Gwen."

Dusting his shoulders, then giving his jacket one last tug, Merlin said, "Well, the Royal Ball awaits, my lord."

"Gwen is coming right?" Arthur asked. Aside from his father's disapproval, Arthur was also fearful that Gwen wouldn't turn up, that she would somehow know that marrying Arthur was more trouble than it was worth, that she would suddenly realise that he wasn't the man she believed he was. "Let's go. Father will be even more cross with me if I'm late."

Every step closer to the Great Hall, his heart grew heavier and the butterflies in his stomach only became more frantic.

The guards at the entrance nodded at him. He straightened. He might be a mess inside, but aside from Merlin, no one was to know.

"Announce me," Arthur said as haughtily as he could. If things didn't go well, this would possibly be the last time Arthur would be announced as prince. Merlin looked at him with raised eyebrows, but said nothing.

Everything that could be decorated in the Great Hall was decorated and all eyes fell on him when he entered the room. While he nodded at the greetings, Arthur glanced around - the number of guests were overwhelming - clearly many hadn't joined them at dinner the night before.

"Arthur. I hope you have had time to think about your future," said his father as Arthur settled into the chair next to him. "After dinner, I expect you to take a dance with each of the eligible ladies. Then at midnight, you will make your choice."

Arthur grunted as his eyes travelled across the crowd.

"Remember what I said last night," continued his father.

Arthur focused on his father. "I know what I have to do." He turned to continue looking for Gwen.

But it was clear, halfway through the dinner, that she hadn't come.

* * *

Gwen sat on the ground, one hand rubbing her ankle, the other wiping away the tears in her eyes. How many times had she cried since she met the prince? Sometimes, like now, she wished she never met him, never allowed herself to care, never let herself believe she had a future with him.

And it wasn't just that her ankle hurt, or that Rosalind has stolen her invitation card or even that her father was out having a nice dinner at the tavern with Florence. It was how every time something good seemed to be happening, life would remind her that they never lasted.

"Gwen? Are you here?"

Her first instinct was to keep quiet and hope that Merlin would leave but the worry in his voice made her reply. A lantern swinging in his hand, Merlin rushed over to her.

"What happened? It's halfway through the ball and Arthur's heartbroken."

"I'm not going. Tell Arthur I'm sorry. I can't."

"No. No. No. You have to go. You have to be there before midnight."

"What for? He's the crown prince. I'm a blacksmith. We have no future together, no matter what Arthur says."

Merlin put the lantern down and grabbed her hands. "No. He wants to marry you and I should know. All he ever does is talk about you. You have to be there. He's going out of his mind worrying about you."

Brushing away her tears, Gwen stared up at Merlin. "I've no invitation card or dress. I won't even be able to get into the ball. Oh Merlin, what do we do now?" Then she laughed wryly. "And I fought with her and now I have an injured ankle. I can barely walk." She blinked as the tears refused to stop. "Maybe this is fate's way of telling us that we're not meant to be."


	15. Chapter 15

AN: My sincere apologies that this took so long. Life has been pretty busy.

* * *

"Lady of Westport," said the guard as he pushed open the doors of the Great Hall.

Arthur heart leapt and he stumbled, stepping on his dance partner's toes. Muttering a distracted apology, Arthur let go of her, then turned to look at the doors, his heart in his mouth, his lips curling into a smile. Gwen came, she was late but she came.

He saw the red flash of her dress and smiled. Gwen would look gorgeous in red.

Then she stepped fully into the Great Hall and with a sinking heart, Arthur took in the fact that it was not Gwen. Gritting his teeth, he stepped forward towards the new guest. He forced a smile, took her hand and kissed it, like he would any other lady.

"My lady. May I have this dance?" The lady who wasn't Gwen smiled widely and stepped into his arms. For a while, Arthur held her stiffly as they moved to the music. She wriggled, trying to ease closer to him, but Arthur firmly kept her away from him.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

The words made him snap. "You're not Gwen."

Surprise briefly crossed her face but she schooled her features quickly enough. "I never imagined that you were the one who gave her the tickets. I thought it might be some foolish knight who had fallen for her sword making skills. Gwen and the crown prince." Her laugh was devoid of amusement.

Immediately, Arthur let go of her, uncaring that they were in the middle of the hall and that there were eyes on him and the newcomer. "Why are you here?" He kept his voice low, not wanting to attract too much attention.

"Because Gwen gave me the invitation card. She said that she made a mistake accepting it."

Gwen had changed her mind. He was getting a headache.

"But you don't need Gwen." Not-Gwen said as she again tried to siddle closer.

Arthur stared blankly at not-Gwen. All he could think of was that Gwen had changed her mind. When he felt a hand slowly slide up his arm, he quickly jerked away. "Where's Merlin?" he muttered more to himself than the person standing in front of him.

"My lord -"

He looked back at her. "Who are you?"

"I'm her sister, Rosa-"

Grabbing her arms, it took all his self-control not to hold her too tightly. "You're lying."

"No, I'm not! I am Gwen's sister." A pout formed on her lips.

As subtly as possible, he moved them from the center of the hall, away from the prying eyes. "I believe you're Gwen's sister. I don't believe she'd have given you the invitation." When she opened her mouth, Arthur raised a hand. "No. Gwen isn't like that. She would have sent a message if she changed her mind. How did you get the invitation?"

"I told you, Gwen gave it to me." She had stiffened, her back drawn straight as her eyes turned to flint. "Why do you care anyway?"

The crushing disappointment Arthur had nursed in his heart through most of the ball morphed into anger. Gwen was reticent when it came to her step-sister but he knew enough to be quite certain that Gwen wouldn't have given the invite to her. With a curt nod, he stepped away from her sister. Something must have happened to Gwen.

A number of people called out his name, but Arthur ignored them all as he made his way through the crowd to the main doors of the Great Hall. Merlin was missing and Gwen hadn't turned up. He should have known that something was wrong.

"Arthur!"

Too accustomed to instant obedience to that voice, Arthur paused. The familiar heaviness of his father's hand landed on his shoulder.

"It's almost midnight. You have to announce your bride." Uther's firm voice echoed through Arthur's head. "Come." Fingers curled almost painfully into Arthur's shoulder, ensuring Arthur could not get away, not without some force.

"I need to -" Arthur's voice was hoarse and he suspected his father heard him but was ignoring him. "Father, please."

The grip tightened. "I allowed you this freedom to choose your bride. Now you will get up there and announce her. As you promised."

Arthur stared out at the crowd in front of him. Fruitlessly, his eyes scanned the guests, hoping that Gwen's brown eyes would meet his. Perhaps she was nervous, and spent the time hiding behind one of those large pillars.

"Thank you all for being here. As you know, today's Royal Tournament Ball is special, and not just because my son, Arthur Pendragon, won the tournament. But also because he will be choosing his bride to continue the Pendragon line." Uther thumped Arthur on the back. Arthur closed his eyes. Maybe if he wished hard enough, he'd disappear. "And now, I will let my son make his announcement."

A loud cheer erupted. Eyes studied him. Some looked eager, hopeful while others reflected his own feelings of dread. Elena stood somewhere at the side and she nodded encouragingly. Arthur thought of Gwen, of her sure hands, her firm beliefs, her unwavering sense of right and wrong, her eyes that lit up when she was happy, her lips that clung to his as if he was the only one who mattered. None of the people in front of him were her.

He cleared his throat. "As my father said, thank you all for being here to celebrate my victory." As he waited for the applause to die down, he took a few deep breaths. "Someone very smart once told me that being born to privilege means I have specific obligations. One of these obligations I have learned, again from this very intelligent person, is that I have to be a worthy prince, and in the future, King, to my people. And while I am willing to do what it takes to be the prince our people deserve, I cannot marry someone I do not love."

Behind him, his father made a choked noise. A low murmur started in the audience.

Arthur hurried on. "A marriage without love will make no one in this room happy, and I can be a worthy King only if I have the person I love beside me as Queen. And so, I am afraid that I must disappoint all of you and say that I will not be announcing my bride tonight."

"Arthur," growled his father, his voice covered by the rising chatter of the crowd. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I have to go."

"You -"

"Don't make a scene in front of everyone, father. If you want to yell at me, I'll be in my room later tonight."

"Arthur -"

But Arthur was pushing his way through the crowd, towards the large doors which swung open slowly as he approached. He nodded to the guards, then the moment the doors closed behind him, he ran.

* * *

His father was furious with him, Merlin was missing and Guinevere apparently didn't want anything to do with him. No one was at home when he got to her house in town and he'd no idea where else to look. Perhaps her sister had been telling the truth. His heart torn into shreds, Arthur wondered if his life could get any more depressing. Needing some fresh air and to get away from the castle, he made his way to the gardens.

"Arthur?"

He must be hearing things. It sounded like Guinevere but why would she be in the royal gardens? How would she even get in?

"Arthur?"

He turned and she was there, dressed in a pretty blue dress. In the moonlight, she looked every inch an angel and for a moment, he wondered if he was hallucinating. She walked slowly towards him.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it to the ball. My sister stole my invitation. More importantly, she stole my dress and we fought and I injured my ankle. Then Merlin came -"

Walking closer, he swept his gaze across her body, trying to see if she was injured. But aside from the haunted look in her eyes, she looked fine.

"Merlin came and he - he made everything right. Well almost. But it -"

"I love you."

That stopped her from talking and she stared at him. "I'm too late aren't I? Merlin says you have to announced your marriage to someone before midnight. I'm so sorry. I wish -" And then she was crying, the tears rolling down her cheeks glistening in the moonlight.

"Guinevere, no. Don't cry. You're going to make me cry as well." He tugged her towards him and hugged her close. "You're not too late. You're not."

"But Merlin said -" She gulped, still clinging to his shirt. "He said you had to decide who to marry by midnight and it's way past midnight."

"Well, yes. Except I told everyone I wasn't going to marry anybody but the person I am in love with."

"You told everyone at the ball that?" Gwen drew back and peered at him. Her face was still wet with tears but surprise seemed to have stemmed her crying.

"I did." He cupped her face. "It does mean I might not be prince anymore, but I am a free man."

"So you are." For the first time since she arrived, she smiled. "And it seems like I'm a free woman."

"Mmm." He let go of her and took a step back, despite her murmured protests, kneeling in front of her. "I kneel before you not as a prince, but as a man in love. And maybe I won't be a prince for long. But I would feel like a king if you would be my wife."

Gwen laughed and kneeled in front of him, her hands taking his. "I thought I'd already said yes."

"Say it again," he said, pulling her closer.

"Yes, Arthur. I will marry you, prince or not." Then she launched herself at him, her lips pressing lovingly against his. And for a long while, there wasn't much talking going on.


	16. Chapter 16

**_Epilogue I_**

"I must have heard wrongly. Did you say you were engaged to the prince? The prince of Camelot, Arthur Pendragon?" Florence stood, arms crossed, frowning at Gwen.

"He asked and I said yes. So I guess so."

Rosalind's pursed her lips together but she said nothing. The slight flush on her cheeks suggested that she might even be embarrassed by her actions that night. Gwen supposed that the confrontation she had with Rosalind the day after the ball had paid off.

"Why you?" asked Florence, clearly still puzzled by the whole thing.

"Florence," her father said warningly. "Can we just be happy for Gwen and what this means for us?"

Florence sighed. "It means we don't have to worry about money." A smile played on her lips as she turned to look at Gwen's father. "Thomas, no more scrimping and saving for our old age."

Even Rosalind smiled at that. Perhaps, Gwen thought, things would get better for her family now.

_**Epilogue II**_

"You want to marry a blacksmith?" Uther pinned Arthur with a gaze that would strike fear in any other person.

Arthur nodded, then popped a piece of meat nonchalantly into his mouth, trying to hide the knot of fear in his stomach. "She made that sword you love so."

"She's a blacksmith!"

"And an extremely brilliant one too." He swallowed. "More importantly, I love her and I will marry her no matter what you think."

"You will give up your throne for her?"

Muttering a quick prayer under his breath, Arthur nodded. "I will. I need her and while giving up Camelot will hurt, losing her will kill me."

For a long while, Uther said nothing. The silence soon became unbearable and Arthur didn't taste a single thing he put in his mouth. He darted looks at his father but his expression was indecipherable.

Once Uther's plate was empty, he placed his spoon down and looked up at Arthur. "Bring her for lunch tomorrow."

_**Epilogue III**_

"Are you sure you don't need help with your wedding dress? I thought I did a pretty good job with the one you didn't wear to the ball." The door swung open, as Merlin darted in, ignoring the protests of the guards outside.

"Merlin! I'm glad you're here. And no thank you. You couldn't tell the difference between blue and purple." The seamstress tutted when Gwen moved and she quickly went back to her position, allowing the seamstress to measure her. "But it was a lovely dress and very special."

"Anyway, I'm here to tell you that Arthur is back from his trip to Caerleon, safe and sound. In fact, I believe he is on his way to see you."

"Merlin?"

"Yes Gwen?"

"Thank you. For everything. I don't know how you did it - heal my father, produce a dress at the last minute, heal my ankle - but thank you."

Merlin's eyes softened and he leaned over and whispered into her ear. "You know it's magic."

"Yeah," Gwen smiled and rolled her eyes. As much as she loved Merlin, she realised that he was a man with many secrets. "I believe you."

Merlin left the room and it wasn't long before Arthur entered the room, casually dismissed her seamstress and dragged her into a long kiss.

"I've brought you a wedding present," he murmured, his forehead leaning against hers.

"Oh?"

"Yes." With a flourish, Arthur whipped out a fairly large box and passed it to her. "Open it and see if it fits."

Slowly, Gwen lifted the lid of the box. When she saw what was inside, she couldn't help her laughter. "Shoes?"

"Indeed. I was in a small village when I saw one of the merchants selling these. They look like the one you lost in the stream that day, don't you think?"

She supposed if she squinted and ignored the fact that they were the wrong colour, they did but she wasn't about to tell him that. Not when he was standing there, looking all pleased with himself. "They do."

"Shall I?" He took the box from her, knelt down and lifted her foot, gently slipping the shoe on.

"It fits!"

"Of course it does." Arthur grinned up at her from the ground. "Like us."

"Of course," she breathed as she knelt down, uncaring that she was in her wedding dress, and kissed him.

* * *

_"Why do you always have to end with kisses?"_

_"Because everybody loves kisses," the mother laughed as she pressed a series of kisses on her son's face._

_"Eww, no. Stop it!"_

_"Give me a kiss and I will."_

_Reaching over, the boy gave his mother a peck on the cheek before sliding back under the covers. "Good night mother."_

_"Good night Llacheu. Sleep well. Father will be back tomorrow from his patrols for your birthday."_

_"Mmmm." The boy was already half-asleep. "He promised to bring me hunting."_

_"And he will." _

_"And you promised me a sword," he yawned as he snuggled into his pillow. "With a fancy hilt, like Gwydre's."_

_"I know sweetheart." The mother blew off the candles, took one last look at her son before leaving the room._

* * *

AN: Thank you so much for reading and the comments. I enjoy reading each and every one of them. If you're interested in what's next, I, as usual, have too many fics on my hands. But I am hoping to be able to finish Secrets and Kings and Queens. (Also someone got me writing AG!pirate smut. So.)


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